Who Am I?
by Wrong Password
Summary: Fifteen years after both have been given up for adoption, Judy Wilde's family meets Nicholas Hopps's family in Bunnyburrow. What happens when the two meet in school? Here's a few of the bullet points: identity crises, expulsions, and a chance for both to discover what it takes to make the world a better place, plus the chance to learn who they are and what they stand for.
1. Chapter 1

It's not Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps, it's Nick Hopps and Judy Wilde. Nick's parents couldn't afford to keep him, but a bunny's less expensive. Bonnie Hopps didn't want to give up her kit, but as a single mother, she couldn't afford to keep her. But when she finds a fox kit in an alleyway, her heart breaks and she takes him home. Now, fifteen years later, both have just these questions: Who am I? Who are my parents?

Well, it's time to find out.

* * *

Monday, April 17, 2000 | Hopps Farm, Bunnyburrow

"Wakey, wakey, rise and shine, Nick!"

"Aww, Mom, do I have to? Foxes are nocturnal, just let me sleep!"

"Haven't you learned by now that rabbits are diurnal, Nicholas Peter? Get up, it's time for school. _Now."_

"No, no, no. You can't make me."

"Sweet Serendipity, teenagers these days. Looks like we'll have to do this the hard way."

"Oh, no you don't! I'm up, I'm up!" _No ice water, Mom, please, that'll take forever to dry!_

"That's better, you little rascal. Come on, get dressed. There's some chores to get done. I know how you just _love_ your blueberries, and the crop's ready for picking. I'll let you eat some if you hurry."

"You know, I don't get it. What is it with bunnies and their ability to get everyone to bend to their beck and call?"

"An interesting question, dear. Maybe it's because we're so stubborn. Now get dressed, or I'll go get the ice water."

* * *

 _I don't want to move, but I don't suppose I have a choice, not with foxes' bad rap. But wait, I'm not a fox, I'm a rabbit. I don't know how many times I've explained it to mammals, I'm adopted, for Karma's sake!_

 _My parents, or the mammals I call my parents, are foxes, and so what can you do? When you're the foxes' daughter, rabbit or not, you're a fox too, and with the prejudice in the city these days? I consider myself lucky that I haven't had it as bad as Mom and Dad, but every time I go for a walk with them, I can feel mammals stare at us. It's not pleasant, to say the least, but maybe I'll have better luck in a town full of bunnies. That's right- Bunnyburrow, here I come._

 _It's going to be my first time out of the city, and there's no way I'm looking forward to this. I've never met another bunny, I wonder what they'll be like. Interesting, to say the least._

 _This is going to sound ridiculous, but I don't really consider myself a bunny._

 _ **But you just said that you've explained it to mammals time and time again, you're a rabbit.**_

 _Rabbit on the outside, but a fox at heart. I just call myself a bunny to other mammals so for one, I don't sound crazy, come on, a rabbit saying she's a fox? Call the looney bin! and two, it helps avoid some of the stereotypes typically applied to foxes._

 _I never knew my biological parents, so to me, my parents are foxes. What can you do, huh? It's a cruel world._

 _But anyways…_

 _They're making me move, and I! Don't! Want! To! I'm perfectly happy where I am now, I have friends, I've finally managed to find a clique of other mammals that don't judge me for who I am. So then why are we leaving? Especially to some little podunk over two hundred miles away from here? Good question- it all just leads back to those stereotypes._

 _My dad, John Wilde, is a tailor, or at least, he tries to be. No mammal here in the city will give him a loan. Stuck up pricks. And it's not because he won't be able to pay it back, though that's what they all tell him, it's because -I see it in their eyes- he's a fox, and what could they be but sneaky and untrustworthy? Seems to me like most people in this city seem to think that the answer to that is "Absolutely nothing," that we really are just the spawn of the devil._

 _So off we go to Bunnyburrow, what fun! Dad's hoping that in a 'town' of over thirty million, there'll be someone willing to give him a shot. I guess we'll just have to see._

* * *

"Is it hot out here, or is it just me, Mom?"

"I think it might just be you, Nick, I told you to get a furcut two months ago, so don't gripe to me, young man. This one's on you."

"I know, I know, you don't have to rub it in…."

Mothers. I don't know what it is, but they have a way of telling you things you already know. They don't mean anything by it, but it does get just a _little_ annoying.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes, Nick?"

"You know the Greys' old bakery down on the corner of Vine and Berry?"

"You mean 'Real Good Baked Stuff?' That place has been closed for years."

"I know, but I've heard a few rumors floating around."

"Mm-hmm. Do tell, what were they?"

"I heard that another fox family is going to buy it and turn in into a tailor's. But that's not all- I heard from Lucy, and she heard from Max, and he heard from-"

"Cut to the chase, please."

"Okay, okay, hold your horses."

"Slavery's been illegal for two hundred years now, Nicholas, do you know just how offensive that is to horses?"

"Is _every_ expression offensive to some species? Anyways, I heard that they have a bunny for a daughter. How odd is that?"

 _A family of foxes with a rabbit daughter? I only know of one family that's been like that, and they're the ones that adopted my little bun-bun._

"Very."

"Oh, and get this- she's in my grade."

 _Uh, oh. Seeing my daughter for the first time in fifteen years? This could be interesting. I just have to hope that it won't mean trouble._


	2. Chapter 2

Well, here I go. Despite all my pleading and wheedling, we've _still_ gone ahead and done it. We're moving, hooray! And lest I forget to mention, today is my first day at my new school.

For that, all I have is two words: oh, _joy_.

Note the sarcasm.

Look, I don't get what's so hard about this. I had the perfect setup back home- friends who actually respected me for who I was, not a common occurrence; a great school, the works. But nooo, Mom and Dad just _had_ to blow it. You have everything all lined up perfectly, then it just comes crashing down on you. Hard.

Look, Dad. I love you, but sometimes, you try a little _too_ hard. Yes, you heard me correctly. If you know anything about me, it's that I, Judith Elizabeth Wilde, never, never, never give up on anything. Never. But this is the one time in my life where I am. Bottom line is, before Mom had her 'accident,' we were hauling in money left and right, not an easy task for a predator tailor living in the slums euphemistically called "Happytown."

Oh, just a note. In this part of the city, a "drive-through" is not a place where you get cheap, greasy food. It's nothing that positive. It's a weekly occurrence, not on one side of the law or the other. That's what you get for living here- the so-called police do nothing to stop them.

But what's "them?"

Oh, just the shootings. There's a hole in my left ear for a reason, you know. At least I'll get to get away from those. And no, I don't mean a drive- _by_ shooting. Oh, no. These are worse. _Much_ worse. Try an entire gang with tommycat guns and assault rifles. Then send them down the busiest street in town at high noon.

Unluckily for my mom, noon's when she goes her lunch break at the bank. Normally, she stays a little late at the bank to avoid trouble, but that day was different- Dad's shop was having an up month, one of the first in years where we were in the green, and Dad decided that that was cause to celebrate, and he decided to treat Mom out to lunch that day, so she was walking down Pride Street towards Tony's, where she was going to meet Dad.

The one good thing- _good thing, hah!_ \- about the shootings was that they were always along the same road, Pawedway, and at the same time, noon. Well, it just so happened that this was the day that the gangsters decided to change their route.

Mom was completely unprepared for what happened- no warning, no time to get inside to safety. She was comparatively lucky, most of the mammals who were caught in the crossfire died. She survived, but as she cowered in an alleyway, shielding her face with her paws, a bullet came flying down the alley and hit her in her wrists- in through the right, out through the left. If that piece of lead had been any higher, it would have hit her in the head and have severed her ulnar arteries. It missed those, but hit the tendons instead.

It wouldn't have been so bad if we weren't a predator family. Maybe we could've gotten insurance, maybe that insurance would've paid for the surgery, but nope, not a chance in the world of that happening. That accident cost us our livelihood, our hopes and dreams, and thousands upon thousands of zoolars. _Way too many_ zoolars…

Well, since the insurance company wouldn't bite, the debt collectors did. Hard. And so, without a say in the matter, here we go…

First steps into this new adventure, and…

"Hey, I didn't know rabbits came with whiskers! You look like a cat, idiot. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!"

Of course, there are always the idiots. Yes, I have whiskers; had them implanted to "blend in," per se, as hybrids, though rare in Zootopia, are not unheard of. With these, I look like a hybrid, rather than an adoptee rabbit. Of course, foxes are almost unheard of here in Podunk, where as it's the opposite in the city.

Well, not Podunk, that's in Deerbrooke County, but you know what I mean.

"Hey, cat, are you deaf, or just plain too stupid to realize I'm talking to you?"

I was about to turn around and give whatever mammal it was a piece of my mind when I heard another voice pipe up.

"It's you who's stupid, buster. Can't you see she's ignoring you? She probably thinks that talking to you would lower her IQ. Now, buzz off, and leave us be."

"Or what, huh?"

"Or you'll be Patchy the Pirate from here on out. Go on, try me. I promise, you won't like it one bit."

I turned around, expecting my benefactor to be another rabbit. Imagine my surprise when I saw it was a fox. He looked about my age, too. I wonder what he's doing out here in the sticks. I wonder what _I'm_ doing out in the sticks. "You alright? That guy's a prick."

"Uh…"

"Cat got your tongue? My name's Nick Hopps, what's yours?"

"Judith Wilde. Can't say I was expecting to encounter another fox out here. The only ones I know, besides my parents, are the Greys."

"I can say I was expecting to find other bunnies-"

"Rabbits, please. Calling us bunnies makes us seem all cute and fluffy and defenseless."

"Aren't you though?"

"Take a look at my feet. You tell me whether we're really cute and defenseless."

"Good point. But as I was saying, what are you doing with foxes for parents?"

"My mom had to give me up, or so that's what I was told. Not enough money. I could ask the same about you…"

"My mom found me swaddled in an alley. She was broke, but she couldn't leave me there."

"You know, our stories are really similar…"

"I was just thinking that myself."

"Kids! We're here! Get off."

"Guess I'll talk to you later then, Nick."

"Bye, Judy- do you mind if I call you that?"

"No, and you know what, I like it. Bye, Nick."

"Bye, Judy."

"See you after school. I'm looking forward to it."

"You know what, Judy? Me too."


	3. Chapter 3

_Well, what an eventful morning, and it looks like things are looking up. Of course, that's not to say that mine is not to be desired, oh, no, no, no, not at all, but it's lonely being an only child. Oh, and here's the rub- Mom told me that she'd had a kit before me, but she couldn't afford to keep her. Of course, she really couldn't afford me either, but as she's told me time and time again, I looked 'oh so cute and adorable' lying in that box, and she couldn't bear to leave another to suffer the same fate as she'd committed her daughter to- a daughter who I think I might just have run into this morning on the bus._

 _What an interesting turn of events._

Just then, Mister Lionheart's morning roll snapped me from my thoughts.

"Hopps, Nicholas?"

I raised my paw. "Here, sir. Oh, and it's Nick, if you wouldn't mind, sir."

"Very well." Mr. Lionheart nodded. "Wilde, Judith?"

"Here. Like Nick, I'd prefer to be called by my nickname- It's Judy, in case you didn't know, sir."

"Not trying to make yourself seem any weaker than you are, Wilde? Trying to attract ridicule? Not wise, young lady."

"I understand that rather well, Mister Lionheart. If I wished for trouble, I'd ask for it. Sir, no disrespect, but any mockery or scorn someone can direct towards me isn't going to do me harm. Being adopted by a family of foxes has taught me more than enough about unfair treatment, that's not counting the fact that I try, which I haven't heard that neither rabbits nor foxes are known for."

"A valid point, young lady. In fact, you two have given me quite the idea." He went quiet, seemingly to ponder this new thought. Then he nodded. "Yes, that would work very well, very well indeed."

"What would that be, Mister Lionheart?"

"Well," he rumbled, running his claws through his mane, "I think I might have heard the epithets 'sly fox' and 'dumb bunny' thrown around quite a lot this morning, and those were the ones that I can relate without being called before the school board. Any idea why?"

"Perfectly, sir. Although, form my opinions, and my conversations with Judy this morning, I believe that they've been directing those to the wrong mammals, aside from the fact that they shouldn't be said at all…"

"I see a fox and a rabbit here before me, do tell."

"Well, sir," I sighed. How was I ever going to explain it to him without warranting a trip to the school shrink?

"Yes…?"

"In the wrong order, Mister Lionheart. The way we were raised has made us think of ourselves as the opposing species, and as Judy has made quite clear, she has faced those prejudices that a physical fox would face."

"An interesting point, Nicholas- yes, I know, you want to be called Nick, but here and now, I do not think that that would be as serious as I need it to be. You see, you make an excellent point, Mister Hopps. Stereotypes define us all, are used to define us, and are used as barriers in our way. In reality, how often are those stereotypes actually accurate?"

"Not often and yet too often, sir."

"If I understand correctly, Nicholas, you mean that stereotypes never truly fit the mammals to whom they are directed. I know there's more than that to what you said, but I'd like _you_ to tell _me_."

"Yes, of course. I'm a fox, right? In body, I mean."

"Yes…"

"What I'm trying to get at here, sir, is that there are good mammals out there who only are examples of that stereotype because they feel there's no other way. Society has refused to see them for what they are, and so they see no other way out than to conform. And so, the cycle continues, around and around again."

"Each mammal copes in their own way, Nicholas. Just take you and Judith here for examples. How often does one see a rabbit with green eyes, let alone whiskers? Or a fox with violet? I presume those aren't contacts. On either of you."

"No, sir," I said. _Just what was this old teacher trying to get into? Stereotypes were a big taboo in schools. He could lose his job for talking about them!_ "They aren't contacts, I've had surgery to change them. Mom thought that it would help. She saved for years- _years-_ to have this done."

"Funny you should mention that, Nick."

"Oh, sorry, Judy, I didn't mean to ignore you."

"No worries. I was just trying to mention that my eyes are the same way."

"Why do we keep doing this?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Copycatting -pun not intended- each other. Why?"

"I'd like to think that it's mere coincidence, but I have the sneaking suspicion that it's not coincidence in any way."

"Funny, me too."

"You never know, do you?" Mister Lionheart said, then turned to the rest of the class, most of whom were soundly asleep at their desks. "Before I do this, would you two mind telling the class what you just told me?"

"No, sir, not at all," I said. Judy, however, seemed a bit more hesitant.

"I-I-I don't understand, sir."

"'Sir' was my father, Judith, please, call me Leodore."

"Very well, Leo- can I call you that instead?"

This earned a rumbling purr of affection from the lion. Something that frightened me but at the same time, I found oddly comforting. "Yes, if I can call you Judy."

"Sounds fine, and yes, Leo, I'll share."

"Then plug your ears, young lady. You too, Nick."

I did as I was told, and seconds later, an ear-splitting roar reverberated around the room and shook the windowpanes.

"Who-o-oa! I'm up, I'm up."

"Ow, my ears!"

"What was that for?"

"You're insane, Mister Lionheart!"

"I'm telling the principal, the superintendent-"

"Be quiet, everyone," Mister Lionheart told my classmates. "There is a discussion we need to have, here and now."


	4. Chapter 4

Who am I? That's certainly been the question I've dwelt on for the last who knows how many years, as many years as I've been able to realize that there was even anything to think about. I remember being just a little kit, and I was still living under the illusion that the foxes I lived with were my biological mom and dad. I thought that until I was about five or six years old- whenever it was that I first went to school. First year students were required to bring both parents in to school with them to enroll them.

Well, I could see the hesitation on Mom and Dad's faces. I asked them why, and they both seemed surprised that I'd asked.

"We-we don't want to see you go, sweetie, that's all," they had said. I only realized the first reason later, and it wasn't for many years afterwards that I could get my head around it- they were foxes, and I a rabbit. Who was to know that I hadn't been kidnapped, or to be adopted to be cooked for stew?

Not me, but the school's principal made that clear to the three of us in no uncertain terms that there was no way, not a frinkin' way that they could possibly be my parents. In fact, he flat out refused to enroll me until we had been cleared by the police.

We volunteered to go down our own to prove our story to the ZPD, but he wouldn't hear any of it. He told us not to go anywhere, or he'd pull his taser on us. Who knows why a school principal would have a taser, let alone in their desk? Not me, that's for sure.

What I do know, though, is that one, I was no way in hell going to go to that school, and two, as soon as I could think clearly, call the police.

Which I did, but of course, it did us no good. The police chief, McHorn, has a serious anti-pred bent, and there's no ifs, ands, or buts about it. That, and Mayor Bellwether wants predators gone. Not just exiled from Zootopia, no, she wants them dead. That kind of gone.

Well, at least Senator Bogo is on our side, but with the political support that Mayor Bellwether gets, I'm honestly surprised that Bogo hasn't been forced out of office yet.

Anyways, as soon as those boys in blue arrived, they refused to listen to my tale. In their words, who were they going to trust? The principal, a ram, one of their kind, or a cutesy little rabbit kit with the spawns of the devil that she claimed were her parents? It could be mind-washing.

So off they went to the slammer, leaving me behind to my own devices.

I did what I had to- I kicked him in the teeth.

Well, that little 'mess-up' got me banned from ever attending school in Bunnyburrow, and Mom and Dad decided that they would homeschool me. Well, that little 'experiment' of ours only lasted until I was nine. By that time, I was in the homeschool equivalent of third grade and saddled with a desire for a friend that would lead to my consistent asking, well, _pestering,_ of my parents to let me go to public school.

They agreed, but only under the condition that I find friends.

Yeah, like that was ever going to happen. Foxes' daughter, remember? Stereotypes, stereotypes, stereotypes. They destroy lives, you know. They've pretty much ruined mine.

I guess then it's a good thing that Mister Lionheart wants to bring up the topic.

* * *

"What is it, Mister Lionheart? You're disturbing my beauty rest…"

"What's disturbing, Gideon Grey, is the fact that you- and not just you- can let stereotypes affect you. How some of you- and in this case, I'm looking just at you, Gideon Grey- embrace them and let them become you."

"That's not my problem, Mister Lion-Who-Roars-To-Wake-Up-His-Students."

"If you hadn't been sleeping, it wouldn't have been a problem, Gideon. Now, who here has ever been judged for _what_ and not _who_ they are?"

Every paw and hoof went up. "Do tell, please. Miss Clover?"

"Y-y-yes, o-of c-course, Mister Lionheart. I get c-called meek a-all day, every d-day. I'm not, t-though, even t-though I-I'm a sheep."

"And why do you suppose that is, Sharla?"

"It's be-because I st-stutter. But it's only w-when I'm n-nervous."

"So relax, and keep going from there," the lion soothed. It's alright."

"Oh-okay." She drew a shuddering breath. "There. That's better. Mammals call me w-weak because of this stupid stutter of mine. They think I'm stupid because I can talk straight if I'm emotional. That, and I try to be d-different. All the mammals I've met think that because I'm a sheep, I should just follow the head of the flock, the bellwether, if you will."

"Obviously that's not the case. I'm sure you'll achieve great things, Sharla."

"Ha! Like she could ever be anything more than just a dumb little wool ball!"

"And that, Mister Grey, is _exactly_ the kind of attitude that we're trying to avoid here. For that, Gideon, it's your turn next. What kind of mammal do you think you are if you exemplify what we're trying to eliminate?"

"Misser Lionheart," Gideon drawled, "I could care less."

"That's apparent, Gideon. Let me ask you something- one- do you know that it's I _couldn't_ care less? And two- why are you who you are? Really?"

"You're talkin' crazy."

"That may be, Gideon. Back on track, please. What makes you who you are? I can tell you're bluffing. I didn't spend twenty-plus years in the political field as an assemblymammal to not see through you. So out with it."

With that, his mask cracked, and for the first time in the time I'd known him, the portly fox showed actual emotion. And not just any emotion, either- no, this was pure, undiluted anger and sorrow. Gideon sat at his desk, paws clenched into fists, teeth bared, tears, of all things streaming from his eyes and down his snout to stain his fur and overalls.

"Ma's gone, Misser Lionheart. An' Pa's a drunk, and you're right. You want to know what I really want to do? I wanna be a baker. I wanna be the best pastry chef in the whole tri-burrows, but _noooo,_ that's never gonna happen, 'cause anytime I try to make friends with anyone, they treat me like I'm worth nothin' more than a cowpat, all just 'cause I'm a fox. So what do I do, huh? I'm trapped."

"If you don't mind me saying so, Gideon, Mister Lionheart, I think that's case-in-point, right there." I stood up. "Gideon, I think you need a hug."

Shocking both me and the rest of the class, Gideon agreed. "I do, more than anythin' right now."

"Then come here. Anytime you need one, don't be afraid to ask. I've plenty more."

"Thanks, Judy."

"You know what?" Nick interjected. "You think that that's bad? Try being treated like a bunny. Now, please don't think I'm trying to diminish what you're going through. That's not the case now, nor will it ever be. No, what I'm trying to say here is that stereotypes ask us to be something we're not, nor will we ever be. How many of you have ever been told 'You want to be different? Well, you can't. You can only be what you are?'" Then he pointed to me, then himself. "Sly fox, dumb bunny. How many of us have heard that sort of thing? Come on, don't be afraid to admit it."

Everyone raised their paws. "That's what I thought. I have an idea, Mister Lionheart, and if you say yes, I'd like to put it in action tomorrow."

"What might that be, Nicholas?"

"Foxes aren't the spawn of the devil, as per the saying. Stereotypes are. Tomorrow, we show the school- and the world- just that. Half the class will fill those stereotypical roles like never before, the other half, you play it crazy- crazier, really. Don't play _your_ species' stereotype, play another species'. How's that sound, Mister Lionheart?"

"Delightfully crazy. I love it!"

"Wonderful. Then let's bring this school to its knees!"


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, Mom!"

"What is it, Nick, honey? You certainly seem excited. Come, sit, sit. What's going on?"

"Well, today just got a whole lot cooler! Mister Lionheart gave us all a project, and hoo hoo hoo, it's gonna be a ball! Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy…!"

"Nick, seriously, calm down, what's got you so revved up?"

"Well," I said, "I had an idea in class today, and Mister Lionheart decided to roll with it. I, Nicholas Hopps, will be, just for tomorrow, no longer 'brave, loyal, helpful, and trustworthy 'cause I won't be a fox!'"

"Um, Nick…?"

"Yeah, Mom?" I asked. Then I saw the look of worry on her face. "Oh, now I get it. Don't worry, it's all in good fun, I promise. Goodbye, stereotypes! Or for me, hello, stereotypes! Here's the plan- you know how damaging stereotypes are?"

"Perfectly. Dumb bunny, remember? Yes, I do, but what does that have anything to do with a school project?"

"Everything. Tomorrow, we're actors. Some of us are going to break every stereotype there is for their species and play another species' instead, the other half is going to ham it up as much as they can."

"So what are you going to be, Nick? Fox or bunny? I can only imagine what school is like for you, a fox with a rabbit mother."

"Yeah, it's different, all right. Sly bunny, dumb fox. Take that as you will."

"Mmm. Go on…"

"Okay, fine, you got me, I don't know what I'm going to do. You win…again."

"I always do, now don't you start."

"Your point is...what, though?"

"Have you actually put _any_ forethought into this?"

"Not one bit. That's what makes it so fun. Oh, and speaking of no planning, care to help me with this?"

"You've got me intrigued here. Oh, what the heck, sure."

"Today is going to be a good day. Today is going to be a good day. Today is going to be-"

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Something's got you wound up, I can tell."

"Yeah, Mom," I sighed. "Something does."

"Would you care to share?"

"Yes, no, ugh, I don't know, Mom," I groaned. "Mister Lionheart is crazy. I mean, he expects us to be ready _tomorrow_ for this crazy idea. It doesn't help that it was _my_ idea, I mean, I wasn't expecting him to decide to actually use it, let alone say that we we actually going to put it into play the next day. The next day meaning tomorrow, that is. Yeesh."

"Well," Mom sighed, "I really don't see what's so hard about it, I mean, I take it you're playing the break-the-stereotype part?"

"Well, see, that's kinda the hard part. I don't know, so I thought I'd ask you for a little help."

"What kind of help, Nick?" she asked. Based on the perked ears and eyebrows, I could tell that I had her attention. I don't know if that's so much a good thing yet, but I'll know soon enough.

"Well, here's the thing, Mom- and I presume you're okay with all of this- I have absolutely _no_ idea whatsoever how I should go."

"Well," she said, "why not go as both? I mean, in a way, Nick, you are."

"A valid point, mother dear, but we don't have any costumes here…"

"And since when has that ever been a problem, young man? I've been sewing all of your clothes since you were born, it's not like I don't know how to. Just one thing- what do you want?"

"How about a pair of of rabbit ears that'll slip on over my own? How's that sound?"

"Hmm, interesting. I'll see what I can do, Nick."

"Oh, and if you can make them by tonight, I mean, this is supposed to be for tomorrow…"

"Oh," she said, sighing. "Yeah, I'll try."

"Thanks, Mom! Love you!"

* * *

 _The Next Day..._

 _Okay, so today's the day we go for it, and this is going to be interesting. I don't exactly know what you'd call my situation, but it's something, all right, something rather_ interesting. _Three steps on how to fit in (or not):_

 _Call yourself a rabbit (I mean, this_ _is_ _Bunnyburrow_ ).

 _Act like one. In other words, start eating lots and lots of carrots._

 _Dress like one. (Are green contacts enough? Though I don't suppose these dental implants are helping any.)_

Oh, what else? Nothing I can think of, except for an absolutely crazy homeroom teacher.

Well, now what? No clue here. Oh, look, there's Nick, and those ears are so _cute!_ Oh, geez, did I just say that out loud, 'cause everybody's staring…

"What did you say, Judy?"

 _Oh, dear..._

I picked my eyes up off of the floor and my ears up from my back, where they had managed to slap themselves down. _Stupid bunny tendencies…_ "Sorry, what?" I said, trying to save face.

"What do you mean, 'what'? I distinctly heard you call Nick's ears 'cute.' Don't you know that's considered to be incredibly offensive by _most_ rabbits to call another rabbit cute? Huh, did you, Foxbun?"

At that point, Mister Lionheart decided to step in. (Thank Karma for that!) "Okay, Angie, that's enough. She's new here, and from what I've learned about her, she has no idea that calling bunnies cute is offensive, now did you?"

"No, sir, I didn't. I won't do it again, I promise!"

"Very well. But that was an excellent opener, Miss Wilde. Who's come prepared today? You'd better have, this will count quite a bit. Twenty-five percent 'a bit,' so who'd like to start?"

No paws (or hooves) went up. "No one? Very well, I'll call on people."

"You know what," Nick said, "I'll go." At that, I heard a few (pardon the expression) catcalls from my classmates. "Oh, look. First we have a foxbun, now we have a bunfox, ooh, this'll be interesting!"

"You want me to come up there with you, Nick?"

"You know what, Judy, that's a great idea. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all, Nick. Let's show these mammals what we're made of."

"Okay, I think everyone here knows who we are, right? Nick Hopps and Judy Wilde, and I think you know what we're going to say. Stereotypes suck- just throwing that out there. But trust us-"

"Trust?" I cut in. "But I'm a sly fox. What would a dumb bunny like you know about being able to trust someone, little scared-of-everything ball of fluff?"

"And there you go. Why should I? The real question is why _shouldn't_ I? There's no reason not to. Who's with me?"

Again, surprisingly, all paws. "Exactly. Why not? So here's a question for everybody- what are you here as? Sharla? Gideon?"

"Another s-switch. He's a sheep, I-I'm a fox."

"I notice you're stuttering. Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, just excited, and it l-looks like my brain can't tell the difference between between scared and excited, so y-yeah, I'm stuttering."

"And Ah'm here as a sheep. Before y'all ask why, it's 'cause Sharla here inspired me. Ah needed a friend, and Ah found one in her."

"An excellent explanation, Gideon. Who else? Ah, Travis. You'd like to go?"

"Yes, Mister Lionheart, I would. I bet everyone here can guess what I'm taking on. The whole 'weasels are sneaky and nothing more' deal. Not true, well, a little. I can be sneaky, but it's onlt when I'm playing hide-and-seek with my sister. Other than that, no, and I'm fed up with being treated as such."

"Who else?" Mister Lionheart enquired. "Oh, who's the new face in the back? Don't worry, I won't bite."

"That's good to hear, Mister-?"

"Lionheart. Who are you?"

"James Wolford, I'm new here, but I have a few comments for this project."

"I'd love it if you'd tell us, Mister Wolford."

"Jimmy, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. What did you want to tell us?"

"Well, I hear this about wolves all the time, that we're just dumb night howlers. Those are flowers, and don't ever eat them. But I digress, sorry. What I was trying to say was that we're more than that. One thing that we're good at, though, is smelling when someone's lying. That's why I want to become a police officer, but since I'm supposed to be a dumb-dumb, even at sixteen, no one will give me a chance. It drives me crazy, and I'm trying as hard as I can to fight it."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, who's up for taking this on the road? As was said yesterday, let's bring the house down!"


	6. Chapter 6

When I said that I wanted to bring down the house, I didn't mean it in _quite_ the way that my classmates appear to have. Oh, well, let's see if we can still get our point across…

"Hey, Nick! What are you going to do now, man? This day has been crazy!"

"No kidding, Gareth. You want to help me with one last thing before you guys _really_ make a mess? I mean, we've already riled up the whole school, so mission accomplished there, but I have just one last request."

"Oh?" He seemed puzzled. "What sort of thing?"

"We1l, here's the thing- you realize that I'm on my way to the principal's office right about now, don't you?" I told my young sheep classmate.

"No, Nick, I didn't," he said, looking somewhat shocked. "What did you do?" Then he paused for a second, a hoof on his chin and a thoughtful look on his face. "Oh, I get it. The whole 'disruption' aspect of things, huh?"

"Yeah, you got it exactly, buddy. If you want to tag along, I'm be more than glad to have the company, I don't get much of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Only child, single mom, you tell me. Look, we're lucky that I even have clothes."

"Oh, come on, you can't be that poor, can you?"

"Sure, I could be, but am I? No, no am not. But even still, Mom works fifty-hour weeks and we're still not the greatest off. Stupid stereotypes- Mom's tried and tried her tail of again and again and again, but because most people think that she can't be anything more than a dumb bunny? Well, then she can't be. Even though that's the exact opposite of her personality- she's always telling me to never settle for less than my best, to never give up even though I could fail, well, a dumb bunny's all most people are willing to see, even though I'm a _fox_. I mean, come on, how does that even work?"

"No idea, buddy, but sweet Serendipity, that has to suck!"

"Yeah, but what can you do," I said, my ears drooping and my tail dragging on the tile of the hallway behind me, "when everybody sees red fur and claws and thinks 'Oh, a fox, he must be a thief, 'cause foxes are red because they were made by the devil."

"Look, Nick, you're not at fault here, no matter what the principal is going to going to tell you." He paused for a second, then turned and started running back to Mister Lionheart's classroom.

"Hey! Where are you going? I thought you were going to tag along!"

"I am, Nick, no worries. I'm just getting you some support."

"Okay, but just wait for me!"

"No, _you_ wait for me. I'll be right back, just hang tight there for a second, okay?"

"Ohhh-kaaay…..But I still don't entirely understand what you mean, Gareth."

"I'm getting your friends!" And with that, he burst back into Mister Lionheart's classroom. I didn't hear a work of what he said, but a minute later, all my classmates came streaming out the door, and last but not least, Mister Lionheart.

"I hear you need some support, Nick," Judy said. "Come on, let's stick it to them."

That sentiment was echoed by the rest of my classmates, who all filled the hallways with their cheers and calls of support. With that, we set off back down the hallway only to find-

-the principal and the superintendent, both rabbits, standing right in front of our group, blocking our way.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't our troublemakers," the superintendent, a buck by the name of Mister McKenna, said. "Well, Leodore, since you don't have tenure, and you've just wound up the entire school," he said, pantomiming looking shocked, then reaching for his back pocket and pulling out a pink slip, "it looks to me like this is the last time we'll be needing your services. Good day, good bye, you're fired!" With that, he turned around and gave the superintendent a high-paw, and I saw red. (Well, other than my own fur, that is.)

"What do you mean, he's fired? Why are you blaming him? It was my idea, hadn't you considered that, you cottonheaded balls of fluff? Or was that your plan, dumb us all down so that way we could never hope to subvert your authority? Is that it, because it really seems that way to me..."

"No, of course not. He made a mess, now he has to pay for it. He didn't have tenure, and so there's no reason why we can't just show him the door, now is there?"

"Well, of course there is!" I nearly shouted. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it, but fox fangs are great for intimidating dumb rabbits (No offense meant, Judy!). He didn't do anything! This whole plan was my idea. If he's getting the blame, then I should be, too!"

"Me too," Judy said."

"And me." That was Gareth.

"Count me with them, Mister McKenna." That was Sharla.

"And me." Gideon.

"Yeah!" Judy.

"We all stand together! Together or not at all!"

"Well then. This is certainly a surprise." Mister McKenna said, obviously seething, ears stuck straight up in anger. "And I would've thought you'd just give in. I guess I'm wrong. Well, then I have but one recourse. You're all suspended indefinitely. Oh, and Leodore? You're still fired!" And with that, and even more ticked off buck stormed back downstairs to his office, and I stared blankly at the floor, wondering just what Mom would think of me, her little fox son, already playing to the stereotypes of foxes. Great. And now I'm suspended.

Apparently Judy can tell I'm worrying, because she comes over to me. "It's okay, Nick. You can come over to my house tomorrow. We'll think something out."

"That's all well and good, Judy, but where do you live?"

"As it would so happen, two houses down the road from you. Number 121 Laurel Ave. I'll meet you there tonight."

"See you there, it my mom doesn't skin me first."


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay, so if I'm suspended, then how the heck do I explain that to my mom? I mean, she's always called me her 'little angel,' so I can guarantee that she won't be expecting this, of all things._

 _ **You should have thought of that earlier.**_

Okay, I have enough problems, and I most definitely do _not_ need to be talking to myself right now. Look, my mom knows I'm a good kit, I mean, she tells everyone that she meets that she has the most wonderful son (at least, that's what she tells me that she tells them), so what the hey is she going to think when she finds out that her little angel has been suspended indefinitely?

She'll blow her stack, that's what, and it's time to face the music.

"Hey, Mom?"

"What is it, Nick?" she said, turning away from the pot of simmering water that she had on the stove, along with -ooh, tomato sauce with lots of garlic, just how I love it. But I don't think I'll be eating any. No, I'll be grounded and in my room with my tail tucked between my legs.

"Weeeelllll, do you remember how I was planning out a sort of 'Diversity Day' for school with Judy and the rest of my class so that we could show mammals that they didn't just have to be what their species' stereotypes said that they were; that they could be more?"

"Uh-huh, I do," she said, nodding slowly. "Did it not work out like you had hoped? I see your ears are droopy, and that's never good."

"No, you're right, that's never a good thing, but think about this, Mom, things could always be worse, like, I don't know, me being suspended for pretty much ever…"

"What?!" she almost exploded, jumping straight up out of her seat, ears scraping the ceiling of the burrow. "What do you mean, 'suspended for pretty much ever'?"

"Exactly that, Mom." My ears pressed themselves as far as they could go into the back of my skull, my tail doing the same to my feet and a cold wash of fear came over me. "That plan that we set up to tear down stereotypes…"

"Ye-es…"

"Yeah, well, it worked, and the principal and the superintendent weren't too happy about that. Apparently they like stereotypes, because they suspended Judy and I quote-en-quote 'indefinitely.' I get the feeling that it pretty much means we're expelled, and not just for the rest of the year, for good. Time for us to find a new school." Then I had an idea. "Judy wants me over at her house this afternoon, I could talk about it with her parents then."

"Oh, no you don't, mister fox, you're staying right here."

"What? Why?"

"Here's why, Nicholas Peter Hopps, you're grounded."

"But Mom-"

"No buts. And quit complaining, or I'll swat your fuzzy one until you scream bloody murder. Got it?"

"But-" I tried to protest. This was so unfair!

"No. Buts. Don't try to squirm your way out of it either, you troublemaker." With that, she stormed out of my room and through the living room, and a few seconds later, I heard her slam the front door shut behind her.

 _I'm such a bad son. Go on, admit it, Nick, you are a Bad Fox! Go on, admit it, you know it's true. With all that tall talk about breaking stereotypes, I guess now you've just given in to them, haven't you, huh, Mister Bad Fox?_

"NO! I'm a better mammal than that, I am! I know it! I'm not going to let two stupid sheep break me. I may be a fox, but most days I feel like I'm mostly rabbit. I'm a lover, not a fighter, so why was I fighting all of this?"

 _You know why. It's because you can't come to the realization that most everyone else in that school did today, that you're prejudiced against yourself._

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 _A mammal's greatest strength lies not in their spirit, not in their heart, not in their depth of conviction. No, a mammal's greatest strength (or should I say weakness?) lies in putting themselves down; even if they shine and sparkle and look like everything's just peachy in their world, it's not, they're blaming themselves for everything. Use yourself -me, you, us, as an example, because that's exactly what you were just doing._

"Geez, surprisingly profound. Eeesh, I'm turning into a nerd. Oh, wait, I already am, with these stupid glasses and -ick, got some corn stuck- braces. Oh, geez, now _I'm_ the one stereotyping. What next, I'll be a con artist? Yeah, like hell I-" I would keep going, except that there's someone at the door.

"Who is it?" I ask, not unlocking the door.

"You know who it is, Nick, unlock the door."

"Oh, hey, Mom. One sec, I'll be right there." I scurried on over to the door, twisted the knob, and opened it up, expecting to find- well, I don't quite know what I was expecting, exactly, but it sure wasn't this.

"Nick, you furry screwball!"

"Oh, hello to you too, Miss Wilde," I said, trying not to laugh. That effort failed miserably, and I burst out laughing, holding my sides and feeling like they were going to split.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing, just this whole situation, I mean, you don't exactly come across as the kind of mammal who's ever gotten yourself into trouble of any kind, let alone a suspension that pretty much equates to being expelled." She didn't answer. Instead, she frowned, brows creasing.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes, yes you are, Nicholas. I got enough scorn at my old school in Zootopia for looking like this- 'fox-bunny,' they called me. 'Bunny-fox,' 'funny,' 'box,' I've heard them all. I don't want to repeat that same kind of miserable existence that I had there here. I hope you can understand that."

"You'd have to be crazy to think I don't. It's no better for me here, you know. I mean, it's not very often that you see a fox with purple eyes, right? The glasses and the braces don't help any either. The kids think I'm crazy because I have a bunny for a mom, the list goes on and on, so yes, Judy, I do get it. You've had enough. I've had enough. The world has had enough of stereotypes. They're impossible to get rid of, and most mammals find it easier to just give in to them and follow along, so yes, Judy, I get it. So what are we going to do about it?"

"We've tried to change them peacefully, that got us expelled. We have to think of something more, something that will make a much greater impact."

"You're right. So what are we going to do about it?"

"Why don't you think about that upstairs?" my mom, having sneaked in silently behind us, said.

"Yikes! Geez, Mom, don't do that to me. You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"I'm sorry, Nick, it was an accident, I promise."

"No worries, Mom, I'm not mad at you. Why on Pangaea would I ever be mad at you?"

"I don't know, it's just that I worry about you sometimes."

"Sometimes? Mom, you're always fretting about me. It's like a second full-time job for you."

"I know, I know, I just do, okay?"

"Okay, dear. Oh, Mister and Missus Wilde and I want to have a conversation in private, so would you two mind terribly if I asked you to go upstairs? You could keep working in your room, I'm sure it's no issue."

 _Moms. Such busybodies. But no, I really wouldn't mind Judy's company. I'm starting to really like this doe._

"Judy, if you want to keep planning this, my mom's right, we can go up to my room if you want. It seems like the adults want their privacy."

"Alright, let's go!"

 _So that's them out of the way. Yes, we do want our privacy. I'm sure they'll learn about this all eventually, but for now, we just want to make sure, just in case we're wrong. I don't want to hurt Nick if I'm mistaken._

"Mister and Missus Wilde?"

"Yes, Bonnie? It _is_ okay if we call you that, right?"

"Yes, if I can call you by your first names."

"No problem at all. I'm Marian."

"And I'm Johnathan. What did you want to talk about, Bonnie?"

"Other than the fact that our kids get along wonderfully? Yes. I think you've figured out that Nick is adopted. I found him on the street just about fifteen and a half years ago, a tiny little fluffball with a name tag around his neck- 'Take care of our Nick,' it said. I felt so guilty, I had given up my own kit about six months earlier after the jerk that got me pregnant left me, the prick, so I took him home with me. I didn't have I dime to my name, but I couldn't take my own kit back, as she'd been adopted, and here I was, looking at a promotion at my job and a kit that had no one to take care of him. Fifteen years later, and he's the fox that's befriended your daughter."

"Well, we have a story to tell you ourselves, then. I'm guessing that you gave your kit to the orphanage on Baobab Street in Zootopia Central?"

"Yes, but how-?"

"Because we were the foxes that took her home. The same sort of thing happened to us- we were both 'let go' from our jobs and left without a scrap of spare change to support us, and not a single mammal wanted to help foxes. I don't want to offend, but we needed the money, and having a kit was the only way we were going to get anything, so we adopted a little rabbit kit and named her Judy."

"Yes, that's a little frustrating, knowing that she was only adopted because you two needed a quick buck."

"Whoa, whoa, there, Bonnie, that's not it at all. Yes, we needed the money, but after we gave up our kit, we couldn't get him back, either. We adopted Judy- your daughter- because we wanted to have someone in our lives that we could love and help and nourish and let them live, okay? It wasn't all for the money, okay? I promise. On my honor. Please, Bonnie, believe me."

"Okay," I said, sighing. "I get enough crap for being 'just a rabbit, and only good for producing kits,' I love Nick, I promise, and I would never do anything to harm him. On my life."

"The same goes for us and Judy. We treasure her more than anything. That's why we moved out here. We wanted to find some mammals that wouldn't be as judging of her or her appearance."

"So you came to rabbit country?"

"Believe me, from what Judy tells us, the schools here are much better than in Zootopia. Have we answered all your questions, Bonnie?"

"Yes, and I yours?"

"Yes, thank you. Promise me this- we tell them nothing about this until they're older. Deal?"

"You have yourselves a deal." He stuck his paw out, and I shook it. "Thank you."


	8. Chapter 8

"Ugh, I still can't believe that I got us both suspended. No, scratch that, not even suspended, really. More like expelled, if I'm being completely honest with myself. Oh, sweet Karma, I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't mean it, I mean, I just...I…" she trailed off, at a complete loss for words.

"What do we do now?"

'Well, here's the thing, Judy- it's okay, and it always has been, and always will be," I said, my tail wrapping around the part of her legs that were dangling off the side of my bed. We had been up here for about half an hour now, and as soon as I had passed the threshold, I had burst right into tears. God, foxes are _so_ emotional, and living with a rabbit doesn't help anything.

"Sappy fox. Gah, Nick, you're nuts."

"You know you love me," I said, and I hoped desperately that Judy could tell that I was yanking her chain. Yes. it looked like I was making her smirk, but there was something else in her look, too...

"You're insufferable," she snapped back. "But answer me, darn it, and quit stalling- what are we going to do about this, huh?"

"Good question, Judy, and while we've been sitting here, I think that I may have gotten an Idea."

"Did I just sense a capital 'I' in Idea, Nick? As we both know, those never turn out well," she said, pulling out her carrot pen. "If that Idea is to topple the school, I'd be more than glad to help. While the principal was ranting at us, I was recording everything in secret. Well, _almost_ everything. I had to pretend that I was paying attention to Mister McKenna's rant while fumbling in my pocket, so I didn't get everything, but I did get most of it…"

"Play it, Judy, I want to hear. Pleeeaaaseeee?"

"Silly fox. Yes, I'll play it," she said, and Mister McKenna's tinny voice came out of the pen's speaker.

" _Well, well, well, if it isn't our troublemakers._ _Well, Leodore, since you don't have tenure, and you've just wound up the entire school, it looks to me like this is the last time we'll be needing your services. Good day, good bye, you're fired!"_

It was then that I noticed the almost dare-I-say it- _sly_ grin on her face. Sweet Celestials, that bunny is more fox than I am, and I'm the actual fox!

"Okay, then, Judy, what are we going to do about this? I suppose that if we were to bring this rather _incriminating_ , shall we say, evidence in front of the school board, then we might get some support…"

"That's a great idea, Judy, except for the fact that both the superintendent _and_ the principal sit that board, they're never, never, _never_ going to listen to a violet-eyed fox that acts more like a bunny and an emerald-eyed rabbit that acts more like a fox. Stereotypes are nasty, and the school board is a group of the most bigoted mammals you've ever met."

"I take it that you've had run-ins with them before, then?"

"Well, you have no clue how much of a fight Mom had to put up to even get me admitted to this school. 'But he's a fox,' they'd said. 'He could just go savage at any minute and eat us,' they said, as if they'd forgotten that that so-called 'savage' instinct is long gone. Besides,' my mom had said, 'hadn't they led Gideon go to school, and he was a known bully,'" I said, pointing to the three thin scars on my cheek. When I was in second grade, my class put on a play about the issue of stereotypes, only it wasn't quite about how to break them down, but did we really know any better?

"No, I can't say we did, because the whole thing was about the world being divided into two: meek prey, and vicious predator. Me, I thought it was great at the time, because although I wasn't the mammal who wrote it, I was just happy that I got a part. I was a bit torn up about the whole thing, though, because I had to be the 'vicious predator,' which meant that I had to attack the lead, who was Sharla. I knew it just was another reinforcement of the stereotypes, except I wasn't quite old enough to think like that quite yet. I just knew in my gut that this whole thing didn't feel quite right, but again, I was just happy to be included for once.

Well, everything went well until the end of the play. The directors thought it would be smart for us to tell the audience what we wanted to be when we grew up, and I already knew what that was going to be. In fact, I can remember the exact thing I said. I was the last one up, and everyone had already gone (Well, except for Gideon, he never did anything with us back then.), and I told the world that I was going to be a police officer. Oh, I was so proud of myself, and I knew I could do it. Well, Gideon was there, watching the play, but he didn't say anything like I was expecting him to."

My paw went to the scratches on my cheek without realizing, and I heard Judy take in a sharp breath next to me. "Yeah, Judy, you guessed right. I take it you noticed these, then," I said, spreading my fingers apart to show the three thin lines over my cheek.

"Yes, Nick, I did," she said. "Was that Gideon?"

"Yes, yes, it was. I caught him picking on Sharla and her brother Gareth right after we had finished the play. He had both of them behind a tree, threatening them and trying to take their festival tickets- this was right during our annual Carrot Days festival- and I told him to knock it off. One fox to another, that was exactly what he shouldn't be doing, because then how were were foxes ever going to be seen as more than just crooks?

"He told me, and I quote, 'What in the world makes you think I care?' Then he shoved me in the dirt, spat in my face, then scratched me and smashed my glasses. I tried to push him off, but he was _so_ heavy, and I just couldn't push him off. I had to fight back for who knows how long until someone noticed and came to pull him off of me. By that time, I had this set of scars on my face, plus two broken arms, a broken snout...You name it, chances are, I had it.

Needless to say, though, Mom was furious beyond anyone's wildest dreams. Her only son, being beaten within an inch of his life, and for what? Carnival tickets? I did get them from him, though. They found them in my pocket in the hospital, a bill we're _still_ trying to pay off.

I sighed. "Look, Judy, before earlier today, I hadn't caused a day of trouble in my life, and now how much do you want to bet that the school would love to have me expelled? Or better yet, expel me and force me to wear a shock collar. Yeah, that seems about right, I think. A bunny- sorry, _rabbit_ causes trouble, and they don't have any problem with that, not really, but a fox? Oh, no, he has to go-"

"Great point, there, Nick," she said, effectively cutting off my rant, "but what are you going to do about it? Besides, aren't those abominations illegal?"

"If, Judy, by illegal, you mean quasi-required for all predators over sixteen, then yes." As soon as I said that, I could see the shock on her face, mixed with straight unbridled anger, ready to blow. I put my paws over my ears, knowing that, based on the scowl that was growing on her face, she was going to explode.

Oh, crap.

"Whaaaaaat?! Are you crazy? You can't be serious, can you? But then why aren't my parents wearing them?"

I answered her questions in the order they came: "Yes, Judy, I am crazy, yes, I _am_ serious, and your parents don't have to wear them _yet._ That law isn't yet legal nationwide, but I had to do a project on them last year. I found out that Bunnyburrow, in particular, as well as Zootopia Proper, are pushing the law through Congress. So far, it's passed all levels of government and is just waiting for the Council's and the Mayor's joint approval. Seeing as there have been national protests about this whole thing, I don't know how willing Mayor Bellwether is to force the issue, but I think she might be ready to drag it out, seeing as the mammals of the city forced interspecies marriage through on her. A blow for a blow, as the expression goes. In that case, I have to wear one, Gideon does, and so do Jimmy Wolford, my parents, Mister Lionheart…. Reverse civil rights, if you will."

"We have to do something about this, Nick, and do it NOW! Come on, how did I not know that? I should have known that, I lived there for nearly fifteen years. How? Did? I? Not? Know? What is wrong with that city so that they feel like they can't reveal the whole truth? Maybe they believe that we'll riot. Come to think of it, we probably will! MOM!" she nearly shouted, hurting my already sensitive ears, and based on what I've heard about rabbit ears, I don't suppose hers fared much better. "Mo-om?!"

Mrs. Wilde came running, a panicked expression on her muzzle. "What? What is it, Judy? Are you hurt? Is everything okay? Is-?"

"Mom," Judy said, cutting her mother off, "Nick just told me that in Zootopia, predators are going to have to wear collars, and…," she trailed off, letting the sentence hang. "Is that true?"

"Yes, Judy," Mrs. Wilde sighed, "it is. They're supposed to suppress 'predatory instincts,' but that's just a crock of bull. No offense to bulls, that is. What they really do is shut down any emotion whatsoever- joy, sadness, anger, anything. They all get zapped out of you. Here's the worst part, though- most mammals can't stand the shocks, so the either go crazy and, well," she dragged her finger across her throat, "or ball up their emotions until it all explodes out of them, and then the collar shocks them so badly that they have a heart attack. They're nasty, I would know."

"How?" I asked, intrigued and interested to know more.

"Well, when John and I first met, it was at a predator rights rally about two decades ago. We were protesting how all predators were treated like scum, worth no more than their pelt. You wouldn't believe the trade in fur that there is in the undergrounds of Zootopia. Dead mammals, murdered mammals mostly, are often skinned for rugs. It's actually the city's biggest trade, fur. Disgusting, absolutely, but it needs to be known.

"Anyway, we went to this rally to protest the issue, and the police, all prey mammals, mind you, came in with tear gas and smoke grenades, plus some sound grenades, which are especially horrible on a canid's ears, then they rounded us all up and arrested us. We were shipped off to the penitentiary that's just outside of the Meadowlands, and we all got collars clipped around our necks. No trial, no sentencing, no anything. It was three years later when we finally got out, and there's another feature to those collars that's the worst of all, and that's scheduled shocks. Instead of clocks in prisons- predator-only, mind you, they set up the collars to shock the wearer at set times every day. If I were capable of absorbing all of that charge, I think that I would be able to power the city of Zootopia for about a year. I really don't want to talk about it, but I needed you mammals to know. It's you who can truly make a change."

"I swear," I said. "Do you swear the same, Judy? Abolish the collars? Even better, come join the force with me when we're old enough?"

"You have my promise," she said. It was just then that Mom came through the door, setting the hinges creaking.

"I hate to interrupt was seems to be a very deep conversation," she said, "but the school board sent a letter. They're subpoenaing you both to the next district court session."

"Oh," Judy and I said in unison. "That's not good."


	9. Chapter 9

_Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that sort of twist, and combined with Mrs. Wilde's news, it seems like things in Zootopia have been a hell of a lot worse than I had ever imagined them to be. What's wrong with this system? Also, Judy seemed kinda surprised when she heard her mom mention those little details, but I can't imagine that she'd never been told. Or if she wasn't ever told, there has to be a reason, doesn't there? There has to be a reason. There's_ always _a reason._

 _So then, the question I have is why? Why, why, why? That's the whisper of thought that keeps floating through my mind as I'm sitting here. It's two days after Judy came over, and my mind has been swimming this whole time. Is it possible that she was never taught anything about it? I mean, I've heard that Mayor Bellwether's administration is harsh, but nearly three decades of outright censorship? I can't imagine that that's quite legal, but then again, it isn't fair, and so what else is new?_

 _That question I don't even need to ask, really. I know the answer, I did a project on it, but wouldn't the same laws apply to Bunnyburrow as they would to Zootopia Central? I wouldn't know, as I've never lived there. No one I know has ever lived there, in fact, except for-_

 _Oh, duh. Mister Lionheart. He told us about himself when we first had him- seventh grade Zootopian History and Government. Even back then, he was a take-action kind of mammal, never content to let the world just pass him by, but instead always advocating for advancements in every facet of society. He had a reputation for being honest, even if it infuriated the masses. He wasn't going to lie to them, not after their experiences under Mayor Swinton just after I was born._

 _Now, this is just secondhand, but seeing as it came from the Zootopia Intelligence Agency, I get the feeling that although things are going to be pro-government skewed, it's going to be a fuller and more honest account of the details than any other place I can find. Let's see…_

I grab my computer from under my bed, where I keep it stashed. I won it years at a raffle, with tickets that I had bought with money that I had made selling lemonade for summers upon summers upon summers upon summers. Although it might seem a bit weird, it's very difficult to make much money running your own lemonade stand in this podunk of a town. Yes, that's a real word, and yes, there really is a town in Deerbrooke County with the same name.

But back to the topic of a lemonade stand- when every other family of the hundreds of thousands that inhabit this town has one, it's nearly impossible to make a profit. Chances are, you'll lose money, but that hasn't ever stopped me from trying.

I boot up the computer, and once I'm on, I head straight for Zoogle to check out the facts. I search "fur trade Zootopia," and as luck (or perhaps Chaos) has it, the fourth article is a Zoo York Times article entitled "Hair Ewe Are: The Disgusting Truth About Our City's Underground." I click the link, and begin to read:

 **Hair Ewe Are: The Disgusting Truth About Our City's Underground**

 _Published February 21, 1997_

John McCormack

For the longest time in our city's history, it has been fashionable to wear fur, as most mammals consider it a compliment to the fact that mammalian species are like no others. Mammals, after all, are the only types of organism that have fur, and mammals flaunt the fur they have. It has also been a style accessory since the advent of the production process for synthetics for mammals to wear fur.

It should go without saying that most mammals assume the fur that they wear is then, of course, synthetic. I know that I myself, had I not been tasked with writing this report, would have never assumed that, if I had seen it before, that such things were occuring in our city. It is something that this reporter is certain of that this process is rather morbid, and sensitive readers should exit here. If, however, you wish to continue, be warned.

With all systems, there are leaks, and one of particular notoriety is the fur trade in this city. Unfortunately, the majority of mammals in this city go daily unawares that most of the fur that they wear comes not from chemicals and plastics, but instead from actual animals. In rare cases, a live animal will give their consent to be shaved, and their fur used in the production of clothing, but the majority of the fur that becomes clothing comes from the city morgues, where mammals are shaved…

At that point, I stopped reading. How would any same mammal feel if they found out what I just did? This was filthy and disgusting, and here I was thinking that I was in a story that went well, and here I am finding out that this world's filled with a whole hell of a lot of nasty mammals? Yeah, there's a problem here. No, scratch that, _**lots**_ of problems here, so what do I do now? That's probably the only easy question I've had all day- it's time to form a to-do list:

One, email Mister Lionheart,

Two, call Judy and get her in on this,

Three, try not to get grounded again,

and Four, go to a school board meeting where they're probably going to decide to get rid of me for good,

all without not being arrested. Yay, fun. Oh, sweet Celestials above, am I going nuts? Probably, but criminality can't be let go. No, it can't be ignored any longer. I open up my email, and start to write:

[To: Leodore Lionheart

From: Nicholas Hopps

Re: Censorship?

Dear Mister Lionheart,

I've come across some extremely disturbing news as of late, and I was hoping that you might have the answers. I've heard tell that you used to work in Zootopian politics, and I was hoping that you might be able to explain a few things to me. What's been going on here at home has left me wondering who I truly am and what the heck I'm supposed to do now. Please reply soon,

Nicholas Hopps]

I have only to wait five minutes before my laptop pings with a reply notification. I open up the email, and there are only four sentences:

[Dear Nicholas,

It's not safe to talk here. I live at number 117 on Pine Street. You know how to get there, right?

Meet me in twenty.]

Okay, then… There's something that's not right about this whole equation, and I don't think it's Mister Lionheart.

"Mom? I call. "Can I go for a bike ride?"

"Sure, but whatever for?" she calls back.

"I need to talk with a teacher about something. Something important."

"What kind of something important?"

"I'll tell you everything when I get back, I promise, but not now. Pleeease?" I beg, hoping she'll give, and my request is granted.

"Okay, Nick," she says, sighing, "but be careful, okay? And be safe! Wear your helmet!"

"I know, Mom," I say, "I will. You don't have to worry about me so much. I'm a teenager, I think I know what I'm doing."

I hear her snicker under her breath a bit, but then she says, "Yes, okay. Have fun, dear." With that, I dash out the door and run over to the shed, unlatch in, and hop on my bike, completely uncaring that I haven't put my helmet on. After fifteen minutes of biking as hard as my legs will push me (and that's saying something, considering I run the thirty-two hundred for the track team at school), I reach Mister Lionheart's house. It's not much, just a small one-story clapboard painted a peeling sky-blue.

I knock on the door and wait the few seconds it takes Mister Lionheart to reach the door. He's dressed in a bathrobe the same color as the house, his fur is unkempt, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days. "Come in, Nicholas," he says, "would you like something to drink? You look like you sprinted over here."

"Well, not really, but I _did_ bike, and if you've seen that thing, let alone tried to use it, well then, you'd understand why I look even more like a disheveled mess than usual. I came over because I wanted to ask you for some answers, and maybe something for my stomach, because ever after hearing Mrs. Wilde tell us about- well, I think you might know what I mean, Mister Lionheart."

"If by that you mean what goes on in the undergrounds of the city, then yes, yes I do. In fact, when I worked in the city, that was what I was most determined to do away with- an animal's fur- or worse- being taken without their consent? I know that there were rare exceptions, but the majority of the time, well, no. And most mammals have no idea, either, and unfortunately, this little topic is the least serious of all the issues that Zootopia has going on under the surface. There are much worse, but this is the most disgusting of them all. I'd honestly rather not discuss that here, but-"

A knocking sound interrupts our conversation, so I run over to the door to answer it. I get the feeling that it's Judy, and what do you know? On the other side of the door stands one of the only friends I have, one with green eyes.

"So, Judy," I say, "I take it that Mister Lionheart got ahold of you, them?"

"Yes, he did," she replies, her voice hard as steel and yet cracked, like she's about to cry. "I came as fast as I could. This is way bigger of an issue than I could have ever imagined. I mean, I'd never heard anything about any of this until a few days ago, I swear, but it makes absolutely no sense to me. I can't imagine how I wouldn't have ever heard of it, because I lived in that city for all but the last few months of my life, and I never heard anything about it. Of course, I suppose that my mom could have just decided to not tell me because she wanted me to feel safe, but I think I would have felt safer if she'd just told me when I was younger, because then I could have gotten my mind wrapped around the whole thing. I just...I...I…," she trailed off. "Just...how?"

"I unfortunately think that I have the answer to that, and that same answer goes for why I left that city."

"Oh?"

"Well, there's something that I don't tell mammals. My biggest secret, so if I'm going to tell you at all, you have to swear that you'll never share this with other mammals." He looked at us over the tops of his half-moon lenses. " _Do you?_ "

"I do," I said. "Judy? Do you?"

"Ye-es…."

"Fine, then. I'll tell. This is a long tale, so grab a seat and listen up. Back when I lived in Zootopia Proper, all I wanted was predator rights. End the fur trade, increase the public's awareness, revitalize the downtown areas, abolish Happytown, all that jazz. Well, it was great, all up to about five years ago. Then everything all went to scat, let me tell you."

"What happened?"

"Well, Judy, I suppose you might have heard about the Night Howler Crisis?"

"Um….I hate to disappoint you, but no, Mister L., I haven't."

"Hrrm, unfortunate, most unfortunate. You see, Judy, I used to be Mayor of that city, but you see, the people chased me from office about a decade and a half ,ago. You see, apparently, my Assistant Mayor, she wanted to have a bit more power- she had some former coworkers of hers cook up this flower- midnicampium holicithias, a.k.a Night Howler, hence the name- into one of the most powerful hallucinogens ever created, then shot innocent predators with it to try to push across her TAME Collar agenda. Of course, that sort of discrimination wasn't legal- these things would have been just an excuse to get rid of the mammals she didn't like by putting shock collars on them. I wouldn't stand for it, no matter how many times she tried to push it through on me.

"I guess she just got sick of waiting- once she shot those poor mammals, they went off the rails crazy, and if you can imagine the craziest mammal you've ever seen, then multiply that by itself several times over ,and then you've got what these mammals look like. I didn't know that until it was too late, by that time, no progress had been made on any sort of antidote. The attacks just kept happening for months and months and months, until an otter named Emmitt Otterton- apparently his parents liked the TV show _Emmitt Otter's Jug Band Christmas_. But I digress.

Well, he came to me when the attacks had been about six weeks running, and he told me what he had managed to figure out, that it was just a drug, and he also told me that he had discovered an antidote, as he was one of the city's most prominent chemists, with a speciality in botanical medicine.

As soon as he had given me that info, I knew what I had to do. Unfortunately, I didn't know where she had kept them, but thank the Celestials that Otterton did. He had been a former contractor, in charge of keeping City Hall's grounds kept neat and tidy, so he had had some access to the databases. It had just so happened that he he had seen mammals infected with Night Howler before, as it was used as a commercial pesticide, and he knew how to take care of the problem. He also knew where the infected mammals had been kept but had been under quite the threat if he ever spilled, that he would be darted himself.

I placed him under my protection at a safehouse out of the city, and he made it safely out. I then managed to stage a raid on the asylum and I was _this_ close to giving them the antidote when _you-know-who_ showed up with the entirety of the ZPD to haul me in, and placed the blame on me, both for masterminding the whole the whole thing as well as 'falsely imprisoning' those mammals. I never got the chance to cure them. As soon as those cops showed up, I was hauled into the back of a police cruiser and sent to prison.

I actually met your parents while I was there, Judy, they were then and are still now wonderful mammals. Well, we shared our ideas, and when they were released from prison, they went into hiding. As for me, I was exiled from the city. That was the only real choice I was given- get the hell out or wear a collar myself. I chose the first option and ran, like the coward I really was.

As for your parents, Judy, they wanted to run away years ago. They couldn't do it because Bellwether had placed restrictions on predators like you wouldn't believe. Did your parents ever take you out anywhere, or did they find someone else? I get the feeling that you never saw them outside, did you?"

"No, but why not? I mean, could it really have been that bad?"

"Look, Judy, I mean no offense, but you couldn't possibly have been more naive. You were lucky. You're a prey kid, you could, in all honesty, do anything you want in that city. Your parents, however, well, they weren't so lucky. If they were at home, they didn't need their collars. However, if they were to ever leave home, they did. If they tried to go outside without them, they would be sent away, never to return. Bellwether also made sure to keep it all under wraps, no information ever to leave."

"But then, Mister Lionheart, how could I have done that project on the fur trade? It makes no sense."

Mister Lionheart sighed. "A very good point, Nick. Money talks, that's all I can say about it, really. I got a letter right before I assigned you that project, signed with a red pawprint, that gave me a login key. To this day, I don't know who gave it to me. I get this feeling that it might have been someone in government that was sick of the system. I just don't know."

"Well," Judy said, "my parents will do that sometimes. Usually it's on letters to their friends, but you have my interest."

"May I make a suggestion, then?" I asked.

"Okay," said Mister Lionheart, "but who are you asking that question? Me or Judy?"

"Judy," I said.

"Yes, Nick?"

"We need to make another stop, and this time, it's to your house."


	10. Chapter 10

Okay, so now what? I'm really at a loss as to what to do, and I keep finding my head spinning, even though I'm darn sure that it's screwed on straight, and I'm pretty sure Mister and Missus Wilde are wondering what I've been doing with their daughter these last few days. I suppose that they remember their own hectic school days, when the mountains of paperwork were as tall as they were. I'm in the same kind of situation right about now- the board meeting's in-

"Oh, crap!"

"What is it, Nick?"

"You know how we've spent all day working on this crazily disgusting project?" I asked, grimacing.

"Yeah, I do, and I'm not hungry, if that's what you're after….," she said, almost dazedly.

"No, I'm not hungry, either, Judy. You remember how the school board sent a subpoena for us, and the whole reason why we've had this time off is because we're suspended….?"

"Mm-hmm…," she said, the dazed look still in her eyes. Dang, we must have been working for a lot longer than it feels like- well, duh, Nick, it has been. The board meeting's in twenty minutes! Crap, crap, crap…

"Judy, board meeting's in twenty," I say, and that finally gets her attention. She jerks straight upright, ears straight out and eyes panicked and wide.

"What?" she sputters. "Why didn't you tell me, Nick? We're going to be late! Come on, we gotta go!" With that, she leaps straight up, slams my laptop shut, and grabs ahold of my paw, pulling me down the stairs after her. When we reach the bottom, Mom is waiting for us.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, everybody, slow down, it's okay,' she says, lifting a placating paw to stop us from going any father.

"No, Mom," I manage to spit out, "it's not. We have to be at the school in ten minutes, come on, let's go!"

"Wait just a cotton-picking minute there, young man," she says, and I halt in my tracks, eyes wide, foot-paw thumping on the floor like my mom's is doing as well."

"Yes, Mom?" I ask, putting my paws together as if I were praying.

"Don't try the fox-fit eyes on me, Nick. I know about the school board meeting, and I was just getting ready to head out to the car. Come on, let's go. Oh, and don't forget a jacket, the weather's starting to turn," she says, then mutters to herself, "Stupid thunderstorms. They're always coming when we least need them."

"Yes, Mom," I say, like the good son I know I am and not like the Bad Fox my school now thinks I am. Judy follows, and I notice that she doesn't have a jacket of her own. Mom may not have much, but she can at least cover the basics, so what was it like in Zootopia if the Wildes couldn't afford even a jacket for Judy?

Not bothering to ask the question out loud, I dash to the coat closet, which is on the back side of the kitchen, near the side door, and grab a jacket that seems like it would fit her. Running back, I hand her the jacket and run out the door. Judy closes and locks it behind me, and pulls open one of the sedan's back doors, then hops in, shutting it behind her. I do the same and buckle in.

Mom turns the ignition, and we start down the five mile journey to school, as quickly as the car will carry us.

When we get to school, there's only two minutes left until the school board wants us, and so I take a running start at the doors to push them open, feeling my ears flick back against in fear, and I slam through them, Judy right behind me, only to run right into Mister McKenna. Oh, crap!

"Well, well, it's our troublemakers, back again. I can only guess that you're here for the trial?" He says the word trial so casually it almost makes me gag. How could he be so callous? We just wanted to bring a little change, and yeah, maybe riling up the school wasn't the best of plans, but we didn't hurt anybody….

Mister M notices my silence and apparently takes it to be defiance, because he grabs ahold of our arms and yanks us forward, pulling us through the doorway to the board room, and pushes us into a pair of seats. Paws now free, he turns to the board, and then makes a sweeping gesture towards us with his right paw.

"Ladies and gentlemammals of the board-," he begins, but a banging from the outside interrupts him. When he opens the door, my mom comes in, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. Mister McKenna goes to close the door, but a red paw stops him, and Judy's parents step through. I didn't know they were coming, but it shouldn't surprise me that they've come. They take their seats next to my mom, and Mister McKenna turns to address the board once more.

"Ladies and gentlemammals of the board," he says for a second time, "these two students have caused a disruption to our learning environment here at Bunnyburrow High than has ever been seen here before. As a result of such behavior, they have been placed on an indefinite suspension, pending your review, and that is the reason why I have called you all here tonight." As he finishes, Mister M points to us, then takes his seat.

"Very well, Principal," says a middle-aged white ewe with bead cords on her bifocals. "We have had the opportunity to review the charges."

"Would you please read them to the audience?" Mister McKenna implores.

"Certainly. The students are both charged with the same, so I'll read this only once," she says, picking up a sheet of paper and beginning to read from it: "Charge one is assembly without permission, the second is insubordination, the third is failure to adhere to the school dress code, and the fourth is rioting. Would the accused please rise?"

"Yes, of course," Judy says, standing and beckons me to do the same. I do, facing the boardmammals and standing silently.

"How do you plead?" the same ewe as earlier asks us.

Karma, help me, I think, then open my mouth to speak. "Guilty on all but the fourth. Peaceful protest is the exact opposite as rioting, Ma'am."

"Very well," she says, then turns to Judy. "And you," she says, "how do you plead?"

"The same as Nick,' she says.

"Very well," Mister McKenna says. "In that case, I would ask that the defendants please leave the room?"

"Fine," Judy sighs, getting up to leave. The rest of us follow suit, closing the door behind us. Once we're in the hall, I let the sudden spurt of anger that's flashing inside me out.

"What the hell does he think he's doing, kicking us out like that? They wanted us here, but now that we show, they want nothing to do with us, especially because we're not being obedient little sheep? No offense meant to Gareth or Sharla, of course. But we try to raise a bit of awareness for some issues, and they say that they don't want us around? I'd rather they kicked us out!"

As soon as I said that, Mister McKenna came to the door and opened it slightly, then spoke through the crack between the doors.

"I wanted to inform you that the board has made their decision. Your suspensions are-"

"Yes?" Judy cut him off impatiently. "Come on, tell us."

"-now expulsions," Mister McKenna continued. "We cannot stand for such behavior in our schools, and we wish you the best of luck in finding a new school. Good. Day," he stated with finality, slamming the door as hard as he could (which wasn't very) behind him.

"Sweet cheese and crackers," Judy mumbled, almost imperceptibly. "Oh, sheep. We're screwed, aren't we, Nick?"

She had to wait a few seconds for my answer because I was about ready to blow sky-high, but I finally managed to find my words. "Yes, Judy, we really are. Yes, yes we are." With that, I turn and storm down the hall, leaving Judy calling after me.

"Nick, wait!"

I turn around slightly and pause for a fraction of a second. "Judy, do you know anyone that knows how to write up a lawsuit?"

"What are you getting yourself into, Nick?" she asks, obviously confused.

"I need to take this to a higher power. Can you get me Senator Bogo's number?"

"Sure. Eight o'clock tomorrow?"

"Deal." And this time, to return the favor from weeks ago, I give her a peck on the cheek.

"What was that for?!" she sputters, blushing.

"You know you love me, Judy," I say. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Nick," she mumbles back. "And yes, yes I do."


	11. Chapter 11

Okay, so _why_ couldn't I keep my mouth shut? I don't know, and it really shouldn't matter, I've been able to say what I've thought before, I mean, I did just that to Judy a few minutes ago, so then why on the Celestials' green Earth couldn't I say what I thought at the school board meeting? I don't get it at all- I'm in trouble for speaking my mind, but don't we have freedom of speech here in Pangaea?

Well, that's what I _would_ have thought a few weeks ago, but considering the fact that we've bothy just been expelled for doing just that- speaking our minds, I get the definite feeling that that's no longer the case. It's not just that, though, I'm used to fairness in my life, and so I can't seem to get my head around why the school would be run by such bigoted mammals. Then again, should I really be surprised that anyone in charge wants to cover things up? I mean, you just have to take a look at our entire lives- Judy's and mine. We were given up and taken in by the other family, that's not too hard to figure out now, but we had no idea that the other existed until a few short months ago, and although I may act like a rabbit, all mammals ever see, no matter how hard I try to change their minds, is a shifty, untrustworthy _fox_.

I don't know quite why that's the stereotype, but whatever the case may be, it has both of our heads spinning, and it's a sure thing as of ten minutes ago that neither of us are ever going to be allowed to step paw into this building again, and oh, dear Karma, we're royally effed!

Besides that, though, there's the much larger issue of whether or not Mom's going to tan my hide tonight, and I really don't want to find out, but seeing as Mom's going to be waiting when I get home, there's a call I need to make first. Judy slipped me Senator Bogo's number as we parted ways, so now it's on me to find a payphone and hope I can scrounge up a quarter from somewhere and hope that my tears will stop fogging up my glasses.

With that, I dash out of school and head straight for the bakery that's around the block. I've stopped in there before, and the owner, one Mister Zerda, another fox like me, usually sets something aside on the chance that I'll be in. I used to be a regular customer of his before all of this school debacle, but ever since, no such luck.

Thankfully, though, as I step through the door, I can smell the yeasty smell of fresh doughnuts, and I walk over to the counter to see if Finnick, as he prefers I call him, has a doughnut set aside for me, but instead of his face standing on the stepladder at the counter, there's an elephant, and judging from the scowl on his face, it doesn't look like I'm welcome anymore.

Before I can ask him anything, he places a hoof on the counter and stares me straight in the face. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What, buddy, there aren't any fox sweet shops in your part of town?"

Okay, so now I'm royally pissed. I can't help but stand and stare in shock as I watch my friend skulk off down the hallway, tail dragging behind him like a kicked wolf, and I can't help feeling sorry for him. I want to run after him and give him a hug, but I get the feeling the he really won't be in the mood for one. Instead, I head out to the car, where Mom and Dad are waiting for me, and I notice their confused looks when they see that Nick isn't with me.

"He went downtown," I say, trying to keep them from asking any questions, because I really don't want to tell them anything about the meeting. "If I had to guess, he's heading to the bakery around the block."

"What makes you think that, hun?" Dad leans out the window at looks straight at me.

"Well," I say, tapping my paw impatiently, "I'd tell you, but I really should follow after him. Do you know the place I'm talking about?"

"Yes, I do. You want a lift?"

"No, I'm good," I say, already running down the school's driveway, hoping that I'll be able to hide the tears that have started to stream down my muzzle without me ever asking them to.

I run as hard as I can until I run into downtown, my eyes scanning the storefronts until they land on Nick, holding his paws up in front of him, and from what I can see, the scene doesn't look as if it's going to turn out too well unless I step in, and so I run through the front door, the bell jangling behind me. The elephant at the counter pauses his rant as soon as he notices me, giving Nick the chance to take his paws off of his ears, but then he turns to me and starts up all over again.

"Oh, now a green-eyed rabbit. What is with you young mammals these days, screwing with your appearances? You just can't be normal like everyone else, can you?" Nick tries to protest, but the elephant cuts him off and starts up at me again. "I've got enough troubles without you two teenage delinquents coming in here and causing trouble. Don't even try to explain, just get out. I've learned enough over the years- foxes are nothing but trouble, and I can only guess you're with him, which, in my opinion, makes you guilty by association, so get out, and don't ever think of coming back in here again! Got that?"

"Yes, sir," we both mumble, feeling ashamed for reasons that I don't understand, and I'm sure that Nick doesn't either.

"Come on, Judy," Nick says, "let's go. I can tell when we're not wanted."

With that, we head for the door, heads down, only to stop when the door swings open, setting the bell clanging again. Both of us look up in unison to see a pair of wolves dressed in the dress blues of Zootopia's Precinct One cops. The one on the right looks at his partner, and then looks down at us. "He causing you trouble?"

Both of us nod silently.

"I see," says the one on the right. "Well, that's not appreciated, now is it, Gary?"

The other officer laughs. "You know it's not, Larry, and we're _Officers Luplin_ on the beat."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. On the other paw, though, what's the matter?" he says, facing us again. "This guy bothering you?"

Neither of us say anything. Instead, we both just nod silently. When Officer Luplin- Larry- sees that, he puts a paw on his partner's shoulder and steps out the door, beckoning us to follow. "Can you two follow me outside while my partner deals with that nut inside? No pun intended, of course."

"Umm...okay," I say. "Whatever for?"

"I just want to ask you both a few questions." When he sees Nick nervously shrink into himself, he puts a reassuring paw on his shoulder. "It's okay, kid. You don't need to worry about getting in trouble. I just want to find out what happened in there."

"Well," Nick says, seeming to open up somewhat, "I went in to say hello and see if the fox who _used_ to own the shop had set anything aside for be, but instead, I found that guy-," he continues, spitting on the pavement in disgust, "and I couldn't get a single word out before he was trying to get me back out the door, just because I'm a fox."

"I get it, kid," he says, sighing. "Mammals don't much care for mammals like me, either, and that's for two reasons. One, because we're wolves, and supposedly, all we're good for is howling, and two," he says, pointing to the other Officer Luplin inside, "we're not just partners." With that, he points to a silver band on his finger.

"He's your-?"

"Husband? Yes, he is, and that makes us stand out quite a bit in this world." He sighs. "Look, kid, all I'm trying to say is that you've just got to be the mammal you want to be, and to hell with what other mammals think, right?"

"Right," I say, sighing myself, "but who's going to help us out? I mean, we're quite the odd pair of mammals…"

"I'll tell you what," he says. "I'll get you in touch with Senator Bogo, okay? He should be able to help you out."

"Good," I say, smiling slightly. Then I realize something, and I frown. "Crap, Mom and Dad are going to flip if they can't find me! I gotta get back to school, or they're going to have my hide!"

"You bet we are," comes Mom's voice from right in from of me. "We've been wondering where you flew off to, Judy. Is everything alright in there?" she asks, gesturing to the bakery.

"I think so," I say, "but I get the feeling that Nick's going to be a while. In the meantime, how about I tell you what they said at the board meeting, but you have to promise not to flip out, okay?"

"Okay…"

"Well, for starters, Mom…," I trail off, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "we got expelled."

"Whaaaaat?!" She nearly screams those words, volume rising higher and higher.

"Mo-om, you promised to to flip out…."

"Okay, okay," she says, and I can see that she's straining to keep her emotions back in check. "Start from the beginning, and tell me **everything** , and I mean _**everything**_."


	12. Chapter 12

" _Tell me_ **everything** _, and I mean_ _ **everything**_ _."_

I really, _really_ don't want to, though, Mom and Dad, but I get the sinking feeling that if I don't spill, I'm going to be facing the full orchestra before too much longer instead of just some of the music.

"Ummmm…..," I stammer, hoping I can stall for just long enough so that way Mom can get her emotions back in check, but based on the growing scowl on her face, well, let's just put it simply- it doesn't look good.

Let's see, what are my options here? I gotta think about the options, and yeah, they don't look too hot- I either spill, and get my hide tanned (again!) or I lie about what I was doing and hope I don't get caught, which, as any young mammal has probably learned, never works.

"I'm _waiting_ ….," Mom says, tapping her foot, tail flicking angrily behind her back.

It's now or never, and I want to live, so I think I'll choose ' _now.'_

"Fine, Mom," I say, sighing, "the school board decided that they didn't want to deal with us anymore. They said that we were expelled, and I'm guessing that they didn't just mean 'until the end of the school year' expelled, Mom, oh, no, they don't _ever_ want us back…"

"What?" Mom asks, tail flicking angrily behind her and a teeth-bared snarl on her face. Thankfully, though, she manages to get ahold of her emotions, but not before her claws dig unto her palms. I don't think she realizes that she's quite as angry as she is until the pain starts to sink in, and then she yelps in surprise, frustration and pain overtaking her features instead of the anger that was perched on them just seconds before, and she sighs, letting her breath out in an angry huff.

"I'm sorry, Judy," she says, placing a comforting paw on my shoulder and directing me towards the cast iron bench that's been installed outside of the shop, presumably for the convenience of the customers. Whatever its original purpose, for the next however long it takes, this bench is going to be the home for some rather interesting discussions. "I didn't...oh, here, let's sit and talk this out, hmm?"

"That sounds fine with me," I say, letting a hint of a smile ghost my face. Two seconds later, we're at the bench, and so both of us sit, and Mom begins the discussion, a worried look having replaced the angry one, but the concern in her eyes is still there, and clearer than ever.

"So, daughter dear," she says, putting her right paw in my lap, which I take. "What's the matter? Your dad and I have been looking all over for you, and you had us both worried sick. What are you doing down here?"

At that, I sigh, too. "Well, you said to start from the beginning earlier, so that's exactly what I was planning to do."

"Go on, Judy," Mom says, gesturing to me to continue.

"Well, the board meeting started off badly, and suffice it to say, it just got worse. The board members flat-out refused to listen to either of us before they declared that we were both a disgrace to the school, more or less, and that they never wanted to see our faces on their grounds again."

Thankfully, Mom still seems to stay calm at that little snippet of news, although I can see her hackles raise us slightly, and this time, it's me lending the comforting paw.

"And…?" she says. "What else?"

"They told us," I say, "that they had no reason to believe either of us, because as one who sees herself as a fox and the other as an actual fox; that because we were ' _such troublemakers,'_ we were no longer welcome in their school. Of course, they didn't bother to do that to any of the other mammals that helped us, oh, no, just the two 'foxes,' because all they could ever be is trouble…"

Dad, who apparently came along, comes over to kneel next to Mom, the same concerned look on his face. "Who said that? If they threatened either of you which it sure as hell sounds like, then we need to go right back there and take care of the problem. You're my daughter, Judy, and if those bastards-"

"Dad!" I cry, surprised at his outburst. "Dad, really, it's fine. Look, you're not going to get anywhere with those pricks, okay? They don't care about us, and fighting, well, it's what got us into this mess, remember? Just going back to them isn't going to change their minds, Dad. I don't want to fight them about it."

"So that's it then?" Dad asks me, a disappointed frown creasing his lips. "You just want to give up? I thought we raised you better than that!"

"You did, Dad, and I'm not saying that we should just give up. What I was _trying_ to say to say, before I was so rudely interrupted-"

"Judy!" Mom cuts me off. "That's no way to talk to your father! Apologize to him right now!"

"But-" I stammer, trying to stall.

"But nothing! You apologize, or I'm going to ground you for the rest of your life, young lady!"

"What? Why?!" I try to protest, but the combined scowls of both of my parents kills my words on the tip of my tongue.

"You know exactly why, Judy, so just do it," Nick says, smiling at me sadly. "I'm in trouble too," he says, pointing to where his mom is standing by the lamppost across the road, where Ms. Hopps is waiting to cross the street, "or at least I will be when she manages to get over here."

Just then, the light at the intersection turns red and the crosswalk sign flashes white, and Ms. Hopps starts over. When she's all the way across, she starts straight for us, and it the look on her face is any indication of how this whole thing is going to go down, well, then I'm flocking screwed, and both Nick and I are going to be in an even _larger_ pile of scat.

"Nick?" I ask, my voice trembling at that prospect.

"Yeah, Judy, I see her," he says, his voice shaking as well. "Would you hold my hand?"

"Oh, come on, Nick, it can't be _that_ bad, can it?" I ask, now suddenly a lot more scared myself, and I hope that I survive the next ten minutes.

When Ms. Hopps does reach our little group, though, the look on her face seems more puzzled than angry, though.

"Okay," she says, "where have you two been, and why the hell aren't you at the board meeting?"

"See, Mom, that's the thing, " Nick says, the bravado that I've been coming to expect from him nowhere to be found, "both of us figured that there was no point in hanging around, especially after what they said about us at that meeting."

"And what was that?" Ms. Hopps asks, looking at both of us expectantly.

"Well, Ms. Hopps," I say, "they said that we were nothing but troublemakers that had no business being allowed in their school."

"Okay, I can understand that," Ms. Hopps says, nodding slightly. "It makes sense, but then why are you two _here_? What put the idea in your foolish minds to run halfway across town and give your parents awful frights?"

"I'm sorry, Mom," Nick says, "I really didn't mean to cause any trouble, it's just-"

"It's just _what?"_ Ms. Hopps interrupts, the scowl on her face combined with the angry _tap-tap-tapping_ of her foot not helping my nerves in the slightest.

"They said that they would never trust foxes, because all foxes are ever good for is causing trouble," I say, my voice sinking down to a whisper in embarrassment.

At this, Ms. Hopps lets out an angry huff, and her paw starts to tap faster, then as soon as it started, it stops. "I see," she says, shaking her head in disgust. "That doesn't surprise me, and let me guess, if I were to go ask them about what they said, they would say that they had been perfectly civil, and that it was all the fault of you two young mammals, eh?"

I nod, the tips of my ears heating up in a blush, though for Karma's sake, I don't know why.

"That's exactly what I thought. Come on, let's go," she says, starting off back down the street to the corner.

"Mom, wait," Nick calls out. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" she calls back over her shoulder.

"I have no idea, but I don't get a good feeling about it, that's for sure…."

"Relax," she says, "it'll be fine. Follow me, please."

We all do, and five minutes later, we're standing in front of a drab office building, the awnings in tatters and the windows gray with grime.

"What is this place?" I ask, feeling a slight discomfort creep over me.

"This, Judy," she says, climbing up the stairs and opening the door for us, "is Senator Bogo's office. If you want answers, here's where you're going to get them." She gestures towards the reception desk, where one overweight cheetah sits, happily chowing down on a box of Lucky Chomps.

I go over, and at first, he doesn't notice me, but a "Hello? Down here!" gets his attention.

"Oh, hello," he says, smiling. "How can I help you?"

"Could you set up an appointment for us with Senator Bogo?" I ask. "We need to see him as soon as possible; if you can help us with that, that'd be great!" I say.

"Well, you're in luck," he says. "He's free now, if you'd like to go in." With that, he presses the intercom and speaks into it. "Sir, you have visitors."

"Very well," comes the gruff baritone from the other end of the line. "Send them in, and I'll see what I can do."


	13. Chapter 13

**_Well, I hope that everyone enjoys this latest chapter, and that it's still up to snuff. It's been quite a while since I've written a chapter for this fic, seeing as I won NaNoWriMo in between._**

 ** _~WP_**

* * *

Okay, so now I'm absolutely terrified, and I'm not quite sure what I should do about it. Of course, now is when I'm supposed to be going in to talk to the Senator, and although I've heard a little bit of what he's like, that means almost nothing to me, because I'm about as scared scatless as it's possible for a rabbit my age to be. I've been raised to respect authority, especially after living in Zootopia for the majority of my life, at least, up until recently. Of course, I know they think that they've managed to shield me from the terrors of life there, and of course, I've not let on that I'm any the wiser- any time the topic's been brought up, I've pretended to have been completely naive about it, and so far, it's seemed to have worked.

Of course, the whole 'my parents never told me anything spiel' that I spit out any time Ms. Hopps presses the issue- that's no lie, my parents never did tell me anything, but I saw enough, and, well, as much as my parents tried to keep me in the dark, there were plenty of times when they flocked that bit up and didn't manage it- the scorched fur, the smell of crackling electricity in the air...

But anyways, I'm getting distracted. To get back on track- Senator Bogo, while I've heard that he's a decent mammal, well, the guy works with Mayor Bellwether directly. Now, I know that that doesn't mean that she has him in her pocket, but what it does mean is that I'm going to have to be very, very careful about what I say to him, because, for all I know, he could be under orders from up on high to report about anything that he hears.

Scratch that, I know he is, and that just means that I don't quite trust him, but if I want to get anywhere in this podunk, well, I'm going to need to get through him, and that starts now, so I'd better say something, and say it fast.

"Sir," I begin, my tail flicking nervously behind my back, "we need your help, and both of us are really hoping that you'd be willing to give some to us."

"Oh?" the Senator laughs, his nostrils flaring. "And how, exactly, do a teenaged tod and rabbit doe want my help?"

"We recently got kicked out of our school here in Bunnyburrow for trying to teach the other students about diversity- we got most of the students together and held a demonstration of sorts against prejudices and stereotypes, and well, to put it simply sir," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up in an embarrassed flush, "the school didn't much care for that."

"Okay," Senator Bogo says, placing two manicured hooves flat on the top of his oak desk, "so what do you expect me to do about it?"

"Can't you file a civil rights suit against the school or something like that? I mean, the school did say that the only reason that they had for expelling us, instead of just giving us detention, like would be the normal punishment, was because we were predators."

"I don't quite see what you mean," he says, green eyes flicking back and forth between the two of us before finally settling on me. "As far as I can tell, only one of you is a predator."

Seeing the look Nick gives him, he looks back and forth between us again. "Would either of you mind explaining?" he asks. "I think you understand my confusion here, right?"

"Of course we do," I say, my smile showing off her fox-teeth in the back. "See, I was raised in Zootopia proper, and well, it was a rough time for everyone, to say the least. I was always in trouble, and I suppose that it goes without saying that I got into a lot of fights.

"So anyways, I got myself into this one fight with a group of prey kits that wanted to put a muzzle on me for being like I was- I see myself as more of a fox than a rabbit, on account of my parents being foxes. Here I am, and they try to shove this stupid muzzle on me- they said, and I quote: 'We don't want foxes in our school, freak. What makes you think we would trust a fox, eh?'

"Yeah, that was not a pretty day for anyone involved, to say the least. There were quite a lot of missing teeth, and unfortunately for me, most of those missing teeth were mine. To cover up the mess and prevent any potential for lots of lawsuits from angry parents, the school offered to pay for dental work for anyone involved. When it came my time to have my teeth fixed up, I asked the dentist to make me fox teeth to replace the missing ones- all save for my front four; I figured, I already mostly think of myself as a fox, I might as well look like one."

"I see," Senator Bogo says, sighing more deeply this time. "Look, I get it, it's a mess, but I have no power to bring lawsuits against schools, not without corroborating claims, and especially not without photographic proof. I'm sorry, but I can no nothing else for you. However, should you be able to provide those extra pieces of evidence for me, then I would have sufficient proof to take legal action on your behalf. Until then, I hope that you both have pleasant days, and I wish you both the best of luck. Good bye."

With that, he turns away from the desk and back to whatever scat he was working on before he was called for, and both of us, sighing in defeat and frustration, head back out of the office and down the stairs to where our parents are waiting.

"So?" Mom asks, "how did it go?" However, when she sees the looks that both of us have on our faces, she frowns. "I see. Not good, eh?"

"Not here, Mom," I say, tapping my foot impatiently. "Can we so not talk about this here? I just don't feel that that's safe, okay?"

"Okay," Dad says, draping an arm over my shoulder, and everyone follows as we walk out of the building.

Fifteen minutes of walking later, we reach our street, and choosing a house, end up in Judy's living room.

It's pleasant, with cream-colored walls and a large brick fireplace along the back wall opposite the couches where we now sit.

"So?" Mom asks. "Do tell, we want to know what happened in there."

Not one to deny my mother (a general word of caution- never say no to your mother, especially if your mother is a vixen who just so happens to be hyper-protective), I spill, and by the time we're done telling our tale, everyone, including Dad and Ms. Hopps, are visibly angry.

It's Ms. Hopps who explodes first, face going bright red in fury. "What the flock are they thinking, doing that to my child? To our children? Pardon my language, but if you're asking me, they can go flock themselves, and I think that I'll go take my case to the higher-ups."

"See, that's the thing," I say, feeling a wave of frustration come crashing over me like a tsunami, "they don't care. To them, we're just two lousy predators, and as far as I've managed to learn, to them, we're better off dead, so plain and simple, we're royally flocked."

"Judy!" Mom cries, shocked. "Didn't we ever teach you not to use that sort of language, and especially not around us?"

"Oh, you did, Mom, but right now, I'm kinda too angry to care about the consequences, okay?"

"I see," she says. "Okay, but what's your plan now, eh? You can't stop now, you just have to keep on pushing until you reach the end, and be willing to try everything."

"Nice song reference, Mom," I say. "But you're right, so seriously, what next?"

"I have an idea," Nick says, "but it involves a bit of planning, and a scat-ton more trouble."

"I'm listening," I say. "Go ahead, Nick."

"How's about we get ourselves some media coverage, eh? I think I know what'll work, but you have to be willing to go along with it all the way?"

"Oh, come on, just tell us already…"

"You know," he says, "I always wanted to be an actor, so let's start acting. I'm going to go to the news station tomorrow and see if they'll let me on for an impromptu skit, and I'm sure that the skit's going to need a lot of blood and death. (In other words, where's the ketchup?)

"Deal. Now, where can we get ourselves an agent?"

"I have no idea, but I don't think we're going to need one. Now, let's start writing up this skit. It needs lots of action, that I know. Who do you think that we can rope into this, eh?"

"I'm not quite sure, Nick," I say, smiling for the first time today. "Why don't we just write this thing first, okay?"

"Sound good to me," he says, returning my smile. "So let's think about it for a while. Deal?"

"Deal," I say, and we shake paws, then set to writing.


	14. Chapter 14

"And that should do it," I say, taking the few rumpled sheets of lined paper that we've written on between my paws and tapping them into a stack on the wooden kitchen table of my home, the warmth from the sunlight outside streaming in through the window warming my face, which is nice, especially because I'm feeling awfully cold right about now. While it may just be getting into the fall months, it feels colder than it really is, especially considering how worried I'm feeling right about now. I've already gotten expelled from my school, and the government doesn't want to do anything about it.

So then what are we going to do about it? Well, that's what we're trying to figure out. I'm hoping that this little plan will help get us attention. I've been thinking about it, but what I said earlier- try to get into a news station. Yeah, flock no, that's a great way to wear shiny bracelets really quickly.

Instead, if I'm thinking this out right, I don't think we'll get into any trouble at all. Fingers crossed of course, but I pray to Karma that they won't need to be.

"So, Nick," I ask, tapping the pages of our 'script' together one last time, "are you ready for this?"

"About as ready as I'm ever going to get," he says, "so we _might_ want to do this now before I wuss out and change my mind, ya know?"

"I do, Nick, I do, but first, we're going to need a venue."

"So what do you suggest that we use for that, huh, 'cause I got nothin', Judy, okay? I mean, should we even go through with this crazy idea? I think that we've already managed to get ourselves into enough right about now, and I'm not entirely keen on the prospect that we might manage to get ourselves into even more, you know?" he asks, shaking his head and sighing. "I know that I was originally all aboard this plan, Judy, but now that I really think about it, well…I don't know. I'm not entirely keen on getting arrested for causing a public disturbance, you know?"

"Yeah, Nick," I say, stretching as I get up from the bed. "I get it. On a side note, though, how long have we been at this, huh?"

"What do you mean, Judy?" he asks. "It can't have been more than an hour, right?"

"Think again, silly tod," I say, pushing aside the blinds so that he can see the soft light of evening filter in through the window.

When he sees this, he yelps in surprise and stares at me in shock, mouth slightly agape.

"Judy," he says, "do you mean to show me that we've really spent all day at this?"

When I nod, Nick jumps straight up off the bed, fur sticking straight out in surprise, and if I had to guess, just a little bit of fear that he's going to be in trouble. Curiosity getting the best of me for once, I follow him back downstairs and out to the kitchen, where I see him chatting with my parents, and I follow him until I'm just outside the kitchen, where no one can see me from behind the sliding door in.

"So is it okay," Nick asks, "if Judy comes over to spend the night at my house? I know it's late, but we have a project to work on."

"Oh?" I hear Mom say. "But I thought you two got expelled…"

"Yeah, about that…," I hear him say, and I can envision him standing there with his ears held behind his head and a blush on his face. "I just want to get this done, you know?

When he comes out of the kitchen a few seconds later, it surprises me that that's exactly what's going on, and apparently, my attempts to hide fail, because he sees me, and then his cheeks go even redder. "How much of that did you hear?" he asks, ears doing their best to hide in the unruly fur atop his head.

When I don't answer, he blushes even redder. "You heard all of that, didn't you?" he asks, and I nod, barely, but enough so that he can tell.

"Great, great, great…"

"What's wrong with that? I can't see any trouble with it, you know, and besides, it would be easier if we just stayed here, Nick, I mean, I have a spare bed, and besides, I'm not worried about it, okay?"

"I'm glad you're not, Judy. Thank you, thank you very much, and can we pause with this whole writing thing, because I'm kinda hungry, you know?"

Before I can answer, Mom calls out to us from the kitchen. "Kids! It's going to be time for supper soon! Come help set the table!"

"Yes, Mom!" I call back, and Nick and I head into the kitchen, where we find enormous pots of hot water and sauce boiling on the stove's worn iron burners.

"Please set the table for us, Nick, Judy," Mom says. "There's going to be five of us for supper."

"Sounds good," I say, and go to the cupboard to snag the plates, then realize that I've forgotten to wipe the table.

"You have to wipe the table first, Judy," Mom says, handing me a sudsy sponge. I wipe the table, making sure to get all of the water stains off of it, and Nick snags a towel, then sets to work drying the table off.

Okay, _now's_ when I should get those plates. Before I can get them, though, Mom stops me again.

"What is is this time, Mom?" I grumble, feeling my stomach echo the same sentiment.

"Nothing, nothing, Judy," she says, "I just had a thought, that's all. Don't worry about it, go ahead and set the table." Turning to Ms. Hopps, she says something that confuses me. "I think it's about time we tell them."

Ms. Hopps sighs, then nods. "I heard what they were planning. If it's going to succeed, they need to understand who they are in entirety."

 _Okay, now I'm really confused._

"That sounds fine," Mom says. "We've been holding it off long enough, and they'd find out eventually anyways."

"What are you talking about?" Nick asks, head cocked in confusion. "What have you been holding off?"

"Having to tell you the whole story," Mom says. "And it's a long one. You might want to sit down."

"No thanks," Nck says, "I'm good."

"Then don't blame me when you fall on your tail in surprise. Let's see… how do I put this simply?" Then she rubs her eyes and shakes her head. "Fine. Judy, before we adopted you, we had a little kit. The only problem was that we couldn't afford a kit- we were broke, having both just been freed from jail, and well, life was scatty. We gave that kit up, and it just so happened that the mammal who had adopted him had given up her daughter but was now finally able to actually financially support a kit, having found work at a banking firm. Can you guess who that kit was?"

"It was me, wasn't it?" Nick asks, his face pale. "Which means that you're my parents, right? And this situation could only be made even weirder if Judy was Mom's kit from back when she found herself in the same situation. You're not seriously telling me that Judy would be my sister, are you?"

"We are," Dad says, and at that, it seems like Nick's brain decides to call a halt to the proceedings, because his eyes roll back, and then he topples backwards, out cold.

"Um…," Dad says, grimacing. "Would you mind calling an ambulance, please? I think he's going to need a doctor…."

 _Sounds reasonable to me. What kind of mess am I getting into here, anyways?_


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Last chapter before NaNoWriMo! Good luck to all Wrimos out there!**

"Urgh, my head hurts," I groan, sitting up and rubbing the spot that's throbbing, and then I realize that there are red, white, and blue lights flashing through the kitchen windows. "What happened?"

"You fainted, honey," Mrs. Wilde says, and recollections start to filter back into my head- us eating dinner around the table, and how the conversation ended up drifting towards how Judy and I get along so well, which eventually turned into a revelation that hey, your best friend and you were essentially swapped at birth. _I thought that that junk was only for TV shows,_ I think, _but I guess not, 'cause it's kinda my reality._

"I can feel that," I say. "How long was I out for?"

"Long enough for the ambulance crew to get here," Mom says. "So about ten minutes. They're waiting outside. I'm going to tell them to come in, okay? I'm sure you're okay, but it won't hurt to get you checked out, okay?"

"Alright, alright," I grumble. I hate doctors, but with the way that my head is throbbing, I have to admit to myself, albeit grudgingly, that it's not going to hurt to have my head checked.

Okay, maybe it will, but not in that sense.

"Are you okay, Nick?" Judy asks, coming from behind the ring of parents that have gathered around where I'm lying on the floor.

"Yeah, I am, but like Mom says, it's not going to hurt to get checked out."

"I'll let the paramedics know that it's safe now," Mrs. Wilde says, "and I'll tell them to come in."

A minute later, a pair of paramedics, one oryx and one kudu, walk in the door, mad kits in their hooves.

"So what happened?" the oryx asks Mr. Wilde. "I can see that he's on the floor, so did he slip or something?"

"I fainted, actually," I interject, rubbing my head and trying to sit up, but the kudu holds out a hoof to stop me.

"Why was that?" he asks. "Do you have a history of fainting or anything like that?"

"Not that I know of," I say. "Mister or Mrs. Wilde, do either of you?"

"No, neither of us do," Mrs. Wilde says, shaking her head.

"What does that have to do with anything?" the oryx asks. "I'm Pronk, by the way, and my partner here is my husband, Bucky."

"Nice to meet you both," I say, "I'm Nick Hopps, and to answer your question, those foxes are my parents."

"But I thought you called Mrs. Hopps 'Mom,' Bucky says. "I don't get it."

"And that's exactly why I passed out," I say. "Long story short, we were given up for adoption as kits, and lo and behold, we were adopted by each other's parents."

"That's kinda weird," Bucky says. "You feelin' alright there, though?"

"I think so, but my head hurts like hell. I suppose that that's what crash-landing head first into tile will do to a mammal, huh?"

"You're not kidding, so what do you think we should do, hmm? You could have a concussion, you know? Do you have any double vision or anything like that? Feel sick to your stomach any?"

"No, I don't, why?"

"Things like that are pretty typical concussion symptoms, so I think it would be a good idea to get you checked," Pronk says. "What do you think, Bucky?"

"Sounds good to me. Better safe than sorry, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," he says, then turns to me. "We want to have him brought to the hospital, is that alright with you, Nick?"

"That's fine with me," I groan, "as long as my parents are alright with it, but just as an FYI, we don't have insurance. My Mom can't afford the premiums- rabbit coverage is insane, and then to add me on as a dependent, well then, no sane insurance company is going to offer us coverage, and those that aren't wouldn't be willing to-"

Suddenly, my head throbs, and I see stars. "Urgh," I groan. "Who decided to put the stars inside the house?"

"What do you mean?" Mom asks. "Are you okay, Nick?"

"What I mean, Mom, is that I'm seeing stars, my head is throbbing like crazy, and I'm starting to get sick, so I'm seriously wondering if I might have gotten myself a concussion."

"That's why we want to take him to the hospital, ma'am," Bucky says, pulling a sheaf of papers out of his bag. "These papers will grant us that permission, and allow us to bill your insurance provider."

"But we don't have insurance," Mom says. "We can't afford it."

"Don't worry, Bonnie," Mister Wilde says, smiling softly. "We can help, we ran our own business for a while back in Zootopia, so we have a little nest egg saved up."

"How are we going to pay you back?" Mom asks, and I can hear the worry in her voice. "I can barely pay the bills, let alone pay you back….."

"Whoever said anything about paying us back?" Mister Wilde asks, and when Mom starts to protest, he cuts her off with a curt wave of his paw.

"Look, Bonnie," he says, "we're not worried about it. Here," he says, handing Mom a pen. "Sign the approval papers, and let's get your son to the hospital."

"Oh- okay," Mom says, her concerned expression wavering for a slight second before disappearing entirely, and she signs the papers that allow for me to be brought to the hospital.

"And that's that," Bucky says, heading outside. "Can you walk, Nick? We'll support you."

"I'll try," I say, and push myself up slowly, making sure to sit for a second before getting up all the way. As I do, Bucky and Pronk each take up one of my arms, and we walk out to the waiting ambulance.

Once inside, Pronk lets everyone know where we're going- West Bunnyburrow General, and tells them to follow us in the Wildes' car, and then we're off.

"So," Pronk says as he hooks me up to more machines than I can keep track of, "what was that whole thing about each of you having been adopted by the other's parents?"

"It's a long story," I say, laying down on the gurney, "but it all started about two months ago, when Judy's family moved into the district, and it's just been going on from there."

"Interesting, and I'd like to hear more if you're willing to share."

"Not a problem," I say, and begin to tell him what I've learned over the course of the time I've known Judy, and by the time we reach the hospital, I've just finished telling him just about everything, up to and including me passing out on the floor.

"Yeesh," Pronk says. "That sounds awful."

"Believe me," I say, "it was."

"Get better," they both say in tandem. "We're here!"


	16. Chapter 16

_**So I won NaNo again! But anyways, back to the story!**_

"We're here!" both Bucky and Pronk say in tandem.

"So do you just want to walk in?" Pronk asks, and then his husband gives him a smack on the shoulder.

"Dude, you know we can't do that, right? The guy probably has a concussion or something like that, we need to take him in in a wheelchair. How's your head, Nick?"

"It still feels like scat," I mutter, feeling it throb behind my eyes as I get out of the stretcher. "And why is the world still all fuzzy?"

"Sit down then, don't keep standing there," Bucky says, waving at me frantically. "Sit down!"

"Can do," I say, letting my legs give out and dropping my lightweight self back onto the stretcher.

"Give us a sec, Nick, we'll get you a wheelchair," Bucky says, unfolding one from beneath the stretcher and extending the wheelchair ramp out of the back of the ambulance then coming up it and reaching out a hoof to help me get into the chair.

"Thank you, Bucky," I say, rubbing the back of my head. "So what do you think's going on?"

"I've been doing this job long enough that I've learned not to say anything, Nick. Why don't I push you inside and then, if you want me to wait with you, I can? My partner can too, if you'd like."

"That'd be great," I say. "So let's go, I'm getting cold."

"You got it, boss," he says, pushing me in my wheelchair into the hospital waiting room, finds a spot to park me, and then he goes off somewhere. I can't tell where he is because of the way the waiting room is set up, like a big U with a wall in the middle. I have to say that sitting in here isn't much better than sitting outside, though. Fall is well on its way here, and I had to guess, this building hasn't seen its heating system get an upgrade in decades, because I'm shivering my tail off here as the back of my head still feels like it's being played like a bongo drum. Yeah, I think I've probably got myself a concussion.

Ah, well, it's not the end of the world, I've dealt with worse- like the time when I was six or so years old and I decided to climb the tallest oak tree in our back yard- mind you, this was back when Mom had a job, one of the few that she managed to get and hold onto for more than a month or so over the course of the last fifteen years.

But anyways, I'm getting off track. Maybe that's just because of the pounding, maybe the cold in this whole place is just seeping into me and derailing my train of thought.

Yeah, it's probably that second one. I don't know how long I've been sitting in here, alone, which kinda surprises me. It is a school night, and although winter's nearing quickly, the roads are still clear so that mammals can drive down them safely. Maybe-

"Mister Hopps?" comes a voice from somewhere across the waiting room. I look up, wondering who it could be, and then my eyes settle on a middle-aged honey badger standing right in front of me, paws in the pockets of their gown and white mane wild. How did I not see him? her? I don't know which, the voice was coarse, but it also seemed gentle at the same time.

"Yes, Doctor?" I ask. "You _are_ a doctor, right?"

"I am," the honey badgers says. "Madge H. Badger, if you're wondering. What brings you in today?"

"Um-" I begin, but then Doctor Badger cuts me off. "Oh, shoot, I forgot, gotta check you in first. Sorry, I'm new here, still trying to get used to how everything works. We gotta have you fill out some paperwork first, and-,"

"I'm sorry, Doctor," I say, interrupting her this time, "but shouldn't we wait for my parents? I'm a minor."

"Just how old _are_ you, anyways? Sorry, I'm used to dealing with larger predators, I'm from the city, you see."

"I'm fifteen, Doctor, so I've got a few more years, I think. What brings you out here, anyways?"

"I can't say," the doctor whispers, snagging a stack of paperwork and a pen on a clipboard from behind the main counter.

"Why not?"

"The sheep," she, I'm assuming from the name, says. "The sheep are always watching. I don't know if Smellwether is watching us, even here."

"Are you alright there, doctor?" I ask her, wondering where her sudden change in attitude came from.

"Wha? Oh, yeah, I'm alright, I just get like that sometimes. These here are papers that your parents are going to have to sign when they get here, assuming they do soon."

"Parent, singular," I clarify. "I was given up for adoption, my mom's Bonnie Hopps, you know her?"

"Can't say that I do. You say that you were given up for adoption, though? Don't worry about the tangent, I go off on 'em all the time."

"Yeah, I did say that. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Would you happen to know who your biological parents are, perhaps?"

"Yeah, I do, actually, they just moved to town here. John and Marian Wilde, why?"

"The Wildes?" Doctor Badger gasps. "But I thought that they got thrown in the slammer, what, for advocating pred rights, was that it?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I say, my mind mostly distracted from the pain.

"I thought that those two got arrested for good… Damn, am I glad that they're out. Are they going to be coming?"

"Probably," I say, and then I see Mister and Mrs. Wilde's car's headlights come in the driveway of the hospital, and three mammals pile out. "In fact, speak of the devil, that's them now."

"Did they ever tell you that they knew me?" Dr. Badger asks.

"Can't say that they ever did," I say. "Why do you ask?"

"Because we worked together for years, trying to undo the mess that Smellwether and her cronies made. I was nearly ready to present my cure- they were on my research team, not officially, of course, but we worked together, trying to figure out why mammals- just preds, actually- why they kept going savage."

"Savage? You mean like 'reversion back to instincts' savage?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"But that's impossible. Mister and Missus Wilde told me that just a week ago that Bellwether was behind all of it, that she's been lording her power over the rest of the country, and in particular, Zootopia proper; that she's been darting all of the predators to try and keep that power and collaring all of those that won't give in!"

"Why do you think that I'm here?" Doctor Badger- Madge, I'm just going to call her- asks. "I was Mayor Lionheart's Chief Medical Officer, and I only took on more of that role after the Savage Crisis-"

"Savage Crisis?" Mister Wilde says. "What are you talking about, Nick? And doesn't your head hurt?"

"Yeah, it does, like flocking scat, actually, but I'm kinda trying to ignore it for the moment."

"I see," Mister Wilde says, pinching his muzzle between two of his fingers, and then he sighs. "I knew that we should have told you more, but, well-"

"I get it, I get it, you thought that we both couldn't handle it."

"Pretty much, yeah…"

"Well, I'm glad you can admit it, and after I get my head checked out, would it be awfully much to ask of everyone that they explain the truth to us? And I mean the whole truth?"

"Well-" Mister Wilde starts to protest, but then Judy cuts him off.

"Is it, Dad? I want to know too." she asks. "Come on, tell us."

"Fine, fine," he says, "but only after Nick can make sure that his head's screwed on straight."

"I swear, I'd lose it if it weren't attached to my neck," I say, smiling. "Come on, let's go."


	17. Chapter 17

AN: I hope this chapter's decent, I haven't worked on this story in forever. Enjoy!

~WP

* * *

"So he's alright then?" Mom asks, putting a paw on my shoulder and squeezing it in- well, I can't quite read her face right at the moment, which surprises me, because I can always- _always_ \- read her.

"Yes, he is," Doctor Badger says as we sit in her office a few hours later. "I've run some tests on him, and aside from the headache, I don't see any signs of a concussion, and that would be at worst, anyway. How're you holding up, Nick?"

"Tired and sore, mostly," I grumble. "Just tired and sore, and well, what else is new?"

"Plenty," Judy says from her spot next to me. "There's been a lot of revelations going around, and well, one of them kinda landed us here."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I mumble, rubbing the back of my head. It feels like there's going to be quite a lump on the back of my head where I hit it, but that'll heal.

"Are we good to go?" I ask, wanting to change the subject, like Judy said, there's been a lot of revelations flying around, especially that particular one…

"Yes, I think you are, Mister Hopps," Doctor Badger says as we get up and leave her office, taking some papers off of her desk with her. "Would you all meet me out front?" she says, waving a hand at the front desk.

It's weird being in a hospital this small, the whole thing being only one story, and considering that this is West Bunnyburrow General, well, it seems a bit small, but maybe the rest of the hospital is underground, like a warren? Eh, I don't know, what I do know is that I'm hopefully okay, but the hospital bills aren't going to be, that's for sure. No idea how we're going to pay for those…

As we head out to the main lobby, I notice something- it's nearly dead silent in here, no beeps of monitors, no alarm bells ringing, nothing. That doesn't seem right, and if this is a hospital, then where have all the noises gone?

"Doctor Badger?" I ask, deciding to sate my curiosity now. "Why is is so quiet it here? I mean, this is the only hospital for the southwestern part of the Burrows, so where is everyone?"

"That's a great question, and you'll have to ask the sheep," Doctor Badger grumbles. "It's always the sheep, I'm telling you, they're behind everything. The moon landing? Faked by sheep! Cownedy's assassination? Sheep hit, I swear, it's true!"

"Seriously?" I ask, incredulous. "You're going to make my head hurt again…"

"Well, it's true, I swear!" she says, the mane of white fur atop her head bobbing up and down as she nods her head frantically.

"Let's leave that topic for a second, okay, and change it to another, Doctor, the question I just asked," I say, trying to not feel any more stressed than I already am. "Seriously, what's going on?"

"Look, Nick," she says, "I know you think I'm nuts, but let's be serious, okay? It _is_ the sheep. Bellwether's in charge of Zootopia, you know that, of course, and, well, even though Bunnyburrow isn't part of Zootopia proper, it's our nation's capital city, so we have to answer to it, and well, there's a reason why I'm here. Bellwether thought I was nuts, she's probably right, but she also holds the purse strings, and well, let's just also add in that technically, I can't eve leave this building without a collar, and technically, you should have to wear one while you're here, as per federal law. That's another reason why I can't leave, because I know that somebody- some sheep- would come after me as soon as I left. It's a Cudspiracy, I swear!"

"Oh-kay, then," I say. "Missus Wilde, Mister Wilde, do you believe her?"

"Okay, it's time for the honesty I promised," Mister Wilde says. "I didn't want to get into politics, but after my father's death, I did. I can tell you want to know more, but wait. My family owned a tailor's shop, right in the center of Zootopia. You might know where the building is, or rather, _was,_ if you've ever seen a map of the city proper- right where the Banyan Street Metro Station is now; it was torn down years ago when Bellwether came to power.

"Anyways, I was a young reynard when Bellwether came to power, and well, for a while, life was fine. There weren't any laws that started to crack down on predators just yet, but that was soon to come. In the meantime, we were starving, and it just so happened that my mate and wife here, she was pregnant. It wasn't going to be good, that would have been for sure, so when the baby was born, well, I'm ashamed to say it, but we left him- you, Nick- in an alleyway, because what orphanage would take you in, right?

"Who would want a fox? At least, in that city, nobody would, so we gave you up, and well, we were starving, we couldn't afford to feed all of us."

"So then why did you take me in?" Judy asks, one ear bent as if in question. "If you couldn't afford a fox kit, why take a bunny kit in?"

"By that time, both of us had found jobs, and granted, they were scat, but at least they paid. Garbage worker, janitor, whatever would pay, and it was a steady stream of income. We went back to the local orphanage, who, if Karma had been gracious, hopefully would have found him and maybe, just maybe have taken him in. They hadn't even seen you, so we had no idea where you had gone, but now there was this hole in our hearts, and so, after two months of fruitless looking, we went to that orphanage one last time, looking for you once again. No luck, but there was this beautiful little rabbit kit, who, as luck would have it, had just been given up for adoption a month or so ago.

"What could we do? The city was getting worse by the hour, and well, it wasn't smart thinking on our part, I have to say."

"What do you mean by that?" Judy says, flinching. "Are you saying that you regret taking me in?"

"No, no, nononono, that's not it at all, Judy," Mister Wilde says, we love you, you're our daughter, I just meant financially-wise. Rabbits cost less, that's all I'm trying to say, and it just means that there was only a few zoolars left each month instead of losing money. That's it, I promise!"

"Really? You're not covering anything up? That seems a bit fishy, if you're asking me, no offense to any fish."

"I don't think that they're going to care, Judy, and yes, we're being honest, no, we're not covering anything up."

"If we're not covering anything up, then, what, exactly, did you two do? Why did you keep me inside almost all the time? I mean, I only just recently found out about the collar scat, so what. The. Flock? Huh? What's going on here?"

"Here, let me see if I can explain," Doctor Badger says. "I was the tech who discovered the link between Night Howlers, as they're known, and this so-called savagery. Now, I went to come forward with it, but I was told that someone else had already made the same discovery as I had, and I was told that Bellwether had already been informed. Now, being just a tech, what right did I have to question that authority, right? None.

"So anyways," she continues, "Bellwether got wind of my work, and she offered to buy my silence, and if you don't know what that means, well, take a wild guess. If your guess was 'there'd be one less honey badger in the world,' you'd be right. I was given a choice, either be given the rank of Doctor and be shipped out here, or die. It was an easy choice, to say the least. Now, it just so happens that I had met your parents before, Judy, and well, even when they were younger, they fought for pred-prey equality, despite Bellwether trying to shut them up. They had just gotten out of jail for their role in a protest to that effect, actually, when they adopted you, just about- what was it, Marian, three months earlier?"

"Sounds about right," Mrs. Wilde says. "Don't you think that this is enough revelations for one day? I mean, look at the poor kit, he looks like he's had enough, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, I can't argue with that," I say. "I really _do_ want to know more, but it's almost dinnertime, and I haven't eaten anything all day, so can I come over some time in about a week or so to ask you some more questions?"

"Not a problem," Doctor Badger says. "Just make sure that you're not followed by any sheep, okay?"

"Okay, Doc," I say, smiling and getting up to leave, Mom and the Wildes staying behind to finish up some paperwork, but as I head out towards the lobby, I hear loud voices, and as I get closer, they grow in volume and intensity, until, when I'm out in the lobby, I can see what it is, and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach.

It's protesters, and I have no flocking idea why they're out there, other than maybe to protest some of the hospital's practices? I don't know, but then I catch sight of the signs they're holding and the looks some of them are directing my way as they catch sight of me, and they start jeering.

"Get out of here, _fox,_ " one of them snarls.

"Get lost, predator, get out of the Burrows."

"Even evil checks their locks," says another, "just to make sure that they're safe from your kind."

"Mangy vulpine. Where's my gun? I'll take care of the red devil." This from a little old rabbit with wire-rim glasses who's half bent over a cane, and well, he doesn't look like he could do me any harm, but I'm not willing to test that theory. Instead, I turn tail and run, barricading myself back into the room before anyone else has a chance to react, and then, seconds later, I hear glass break, and the voices start to pour in, and well, what in the flocking hell did I do to deserve this?

I have no idea, but I'm about to find out, that is, if I'm not skinned alive first.

Well, scat. Now what? I'm trapped, aren't I, and for what, being a fox?

Yeah, it doesn't look good, but then I have an idea. I fling open the door, just as the horde is about to reach it, which stops them dead in their tracks.

"Hi," I say, giving them a nervous wave, trying to stuff my nerves down my throat. "My name's Nick Hopps, and yeah, I'm a fox, but seriously, people, I didn't do anything wrong, so please, leave me and my family alone, and listen to me, okay?"

 _That gets their attention, now just to figure out what I'm going to say._


	18. Chapter 18

Now, before I talk to these mammals, I need to get a few facts worked out in my head. Missus Wilde is saying that there have been enough revelations given out for today, but really, she's deflecting. Mom may not have taught me how to pick things up, but, and as much as I hate to admit it, I've managed to learn a few tricks, and among those are a few that I think are going to come in handy, and well, I also have a nose, I could smell that they were lying.

What the flock is going on here? I have a few of the facts down pat, but as for the rest of this whole deal? Yeah, right!

Let's see here, what do I still need to know? Well, being able to think straight's kinda a prerequisite for that, and all of a sudden, I'm feeling paralyzed in fear, so, yeah, no, that's not going to happen any time soon. What _is_ going to happen, though, is Judy calling out to the group of mammals who are flocking around the door (no pun intended, ha ha).

"Hey, you guys!" she says, paws on her hips, determined grin on her face. "Leave us alone, okay? What did we ever do to you?"

"You're upsetting the order of things!" One of the mammals, a rabbit, shouts, and the rest of the group shouts their agreement. "Yeah! There's a way that things are suppos'd to be, an' ain't neither of you two fitting in t' that!"

"And you guys have a problem with that why?" Judy asks. "I am the way I am, I like looking like this, and I don't care what you have to say, so if we can go know, that would be just great, okay?"

"NO, not okay!" a different mammal, a hare, says this time. "Foxes are dangerous, don't you know that? What're you doin' lookin' like one?"

"More or less, I was born looking like this. The eyes are tinted lenses, the teeth were the way I had them fixed when they got knocked out years ago. What's wrong with that?"

"It's different, don't you understand that, and different is never good, don't _you_ understand?"

"You're asking a rabbit who thinks of herself more like a fox than a rabbit whose family fled from Zootopia away from Bellwether to understand that different is bad? I don't get it, okay? I've always been different and I always will be. If you can't accept that, that's your own problem, but I don't need to have it with you. My friend's kinda trying to heal, and it's dam near impossible to do that with all of you yammering out there…"

"And that's our problem why?" a sheep asks. "You shouldn't even be here in Bunnyburrow, _predator!"_ he snarls, and it takes me by surprise, because, well, he's a sheep, and well, I thought that sheep weren't supposed to be vicious. I guess I was mistaken...

"Yeah," I retort, "but I am, and there's nothing you can do about that, I'm not going anywhere!"

"Oh, you're not?" the same sheep nearly _snarls_ at me. "You know that the proper place for a fox is jail, don't you, or did your parents leave you on the streets to fend for yourself because they were too damn poor to take care of you? That sounds about like something foxes would do, so did they? Is that why you're such a freak?"

"Really?" I ask, feeling anger flare up and trying with all my might (and succeeding, thank Karma) to stay calm, because the last thing that this whole situation needs added to the mix is an angry fox, let me just throw that out there now. I've had enough of these dam stereotypes, and yet, the whole problem is that, no matter what I do, I'm just going to enforce what these flocking mammals think, no matter what I do or how calmly I treat the situation, I'm just going to be an angry fox, so what do I do now? Especially considering that I see the flashing lights of a police cruiser coming up the road through the glass panes of the lobby windows, over the heads of the throng of mammals?

I hate to admit it, but my instincts, both the set of fox ones that I was born with and the rabbit ones that I've picked up, are telling me that what I _should_ be doing are two completely opposite things, and I can't do both. The fox that I am says that I should stand my ground and fight, while the rabbit in me says that I should flee and hide.

It's a little frustrating, to say the very least.

Of course, I can't have any time to think, because there are sirens coming up the driveway, the flashing lights of those same police cruisers following them as they do, and I feel an icy fist start to settle in my stomach.

 _Why can't anything go right in my life for once?_ I think. _I've had enough of this scat._

"Who called the police?" I ask. "And seriously, we didn't do anything…"

"Better safe than sorry, haven't you heard that predators have started to go savage again? How can we prove that neither of you will, either? Haven't you heard that it's in their biology? That all predators are just like ticking time bombs waiting to go off? Haven't you ever felt like you're just going to go off?"

"Can't say that I ever have," I say, fighting my dam hardest to stay calm.

"But what-" the sheep begins, but then he's cut off as he's pushed out of the way by several TUSK-uniformed officers barrelling in through the doors, and I gulp.

"Well, this isn't going to be good," I mutter as the officers fan out around the lobby before one of them, a large bull rhino, speaks up.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asks, and then the lobby descends into chaos once again.


	19. Chapter 19

_Okay, great, so now there are cops here, wonderful, and I don't like where I feel like this is going…_

 _I have no idea what's going to happen now, and you know what? That's what scares me the most, that I don't have any freaking clue._

 _I like knowing what's going on, and now, well, I'm just lost…_

 _Course, I have no idea who this mammal who's just come in the door is, but I don't like the look of him. I'm kinda afraid of large mammals, and thankfully, my head's stopped pounding, so that's good, because every step that this guy's making is shaking the whole room, and welp, I'm not very big, so yeah, I'm shaking too._

"Just what the heck is going on in here?" he asks, seeing the battle of that I'm now going to be in the middle of. "Who started this?"

At that, everyone points a finger at the sheep, who's pointing a hoof right at me, and the officer looks between both of us.

"Alright, buddy," he says, going over to the sheep, and I see him start to get his cuffs off of his belt.

 _Good,_ I think, _he's going to arrest the stupid sheep for causing trouble._

But then, of course, the universe decides that it wants to throw a wrench in my hopes when the officer stoops to talk to the sheep, and then, when he's done with that, he comes over to _me_ with his cuffs swinging around his finger, and then, without saying another word, _I'm_ the one wearing the cuffs, and ooooh, _**scat!**_

 _Wait a second here, what the flock did_ _ **I**_ _do wrong? I don't know, because the answer to that is nothing, absolutely nothing, I've done nothing wrong._

"Hey, what's going on here?" Mrs. Wilde asks, her tone harder than steel and sharper than a diamond razor. "What the hell are you doing arresting him for? He's done nothing wrong!"

"Heh, as if I'll believe a fox," the officer says as he nearly wrenches my arms out of their sockets as he pins them behind my back and shoves me to my knees, and it's all I can do to not cry. Foxes don't cry, they don't they don't they don't, and yet, well, the tears are coming and my head is starting to pound again and none of this makes any flocking sense…

"Leave him alone!" Judy shouts, fists ready to go, and I feel my stomach sink once again. What now? We're both going to get arrested at this rate, and flock, I don't get it, what did I do?

 _What's going to go wrong now?_ I wonder, trying to blot out the pain and distract myself, but flock, it's not working….

"Hey, tailhole!" Mr. Wilde shouts. "You still haven't taken care of the problem here! Arrest the dam sheep, not Nick! He didn't do anything, let him go!"

"So all of you keep telling me," the officer says, snorting. "But he's a fox, I'm inclined to believe that you've all been brainwashed into thinking that he's a good person, but I know better, sir, and really, who are you to speak, as a fox yourself? Did you teach him to be like this? Be a thief? I'll bet you did. You know, fox, why don't you just go back to the hole you crawled out of? Hmm? Go on, do it, I'll take this son of a vixen with me. How's that sound? One more fox off the street?"

 _Why isn't anyone doing anything? Hello? Help me!_ I scream inwardly, hoping that someone, _anyone_ will help me, do the right thing and save an innocent mammal.

"If you wanted foxes off of the street, Officer," Mrs. Wilde says, grinning enormously, "than you should have just said something. We'll leave you alone now, but let me just say something first."

"What's that, _fox?_ " the officer snarls.

"Have a great day, Officer, and enjoy getting stitches." With that, she charges at him, and before he (or anyone else) has time to react, she's slashed his face, and oh, dear Karma, we're going to be pretty dam screwed, I think.

"What the-?" the rhino says as he's charged, and then, before I can say anything, she's pinned to the ground under the knee of one of the lighter officers, cuffs and muzzle on, and holy hell, how did I get here?

The next several hours are a blur, but they've ended with us sitting in jail, and you know, I thought that the 'one call' sort of thing was a myth, but that's exactly what Mrs. Wilde is doing, waiting for her chance to make that one call, and I'm waiting for a little bit of food, 'cause I haven't eaten much today; at least the room's stopped spinning like it was earlier.

"So, what exactly happened back there, Nick?" Judy asks from where she's sitting in the cell next to me. One thing I do remember is that everyone volunteered to come along, so here we all are.

"What did you hear, Judy?" I say, rubbing my back and rubbing my fingers nervously through my headfur.

"Well, I heard that the officer, the tailhole, decided to arrest you instead of the sheep who actually caused the trouble. You know, I recognized him… and I can't say that that's a good thing…"

"Who was he, Judy?" I ask, fretting with my tail.

"Oh, just Mayor Bellwether's right-hoof man, that's all," she says, her tone so flat that, would it not get me in trouble, I'd applaud her. She's better at being a fox and not letting anyone get to her than I think I'll ever be able to be.

"Oh, that's _wonderful_ ," I say, as sarcastically as I possibly can. "So what now?"

"Shut up, Nick," Judy says, and that stings. What did I do to deserve that?

"Wha-?" I begin, trying to ask her that very question.

"Nick, be quiet," she hisses. "Mom's making her call, I want to hear what she's saying, okay?"

"Got it," I say, miming zipping my mouth shut, which gets a smile out of her, and we both perk our ears to figure out what's being said.

"Yes, sir," I hear Mrs. Wilde says. "Yes, sir, that's exactly what happened. Mm-hmm, yes, we are, and yes, we're broke. Yes, sir, that would be much appreciated. Yes, of course, you'll be here soon? Thank you, Senator, pax et honoris to you too, sir, thank you, thank you very much."

 _Well, this is going to be interesting,_ I think. _Time for some more explaining, I suppose._

 **AN: Last chapter before Camp NaNoWriMo. I'll try and tap out a few more chapters on the side, but I have no idea whether that'll happen or not.** _ **Parallels**_ **is going to be my project once again, you can find it over on FictionPress on my profile; I'm InkFoxPrints over there.**

 **See you all in a month!**

 **~Wrong Password**


	20. Chapter 20

_It's been forever since Mrs. Wilde made her call to the mammal whom I'm assuming was Senator Bogo, but why would she have called him, especially considering that he refused to help either of us the first time we saw him?_

 _On another tack, when are we going to be able to get the heck out of here? I'm cold and hungry and cranky, and I just want to get out of here!_

"Hey, Mom?" I hear Judy ask from her cell near mine. "When are we going to get the heck out of here?"

 _Hey, I guess she was thinking the same thing that I was thinking…_

"Hopefully soon, dear," Mrs. Wilde says. "Hopefully."

"Hey, you, fox!" another guard says, noticing that Mrs. Wilde's done with her phone call. "Get back to your damn cell! How the hell did you even get out of there in the first place?"

Smoothing down her pants and shirt calmly, she turns to the guard with a snarky, and yet completely submissive look on her face, and says, "Well, sir, I can't have gotten out when I was never put in in the first place, you know, so would you like to do the honors?"

"Gladly," the officer says, coming over with open cuffs in paw to slap on Mrs. Wilde so that he can lead her away when the phone rings, and everyone looks at it in surprise, even the receptionist, a cheetah whose nameplate reads Clawhauser and who looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in forever.

I guess that's just a by-product of the system, but it shouldn't be, and honestly, even though his life is probably pretty scatty, he's lucky that he's alive. I know my Mom probably thinks I know nothing about how predators are treated in Zootopia proper, but there's no other way to get those burn marks like that on one's neck or the ring around the muzzle like that.

"Clawhauser, would you be so kind as to get that?" one of the officers asks, and the cheetah nods.

"O- oh, of course, sir," he says, saluting and then getting up from the desk, the chain around his ankle keeping him bound… what could he have done? This just isn't right….

"Precinct Thirteen, this is Clawhauser," the cheetah says, and then takes the phone as a booming voice comes through the speaker end of the phone, a deep, booming one that I recognize, and I recognize as that of the stubborn bull who refused to do anything to help us just a short few days ago, and that just makes me even more confused- why would Mrs. Wilde waste her one call on him?

That doesn't matter, though, the cheetah is talking to the Senator, and I kinda want to be able to hear what's being said 'cause I kinda think that it's gonna be important…

"Yes, sir. I'll let them know, okay? Yes, sir, yes, sir! Okay, I'll let them know." Then he pauses for a second. "What, sir? Oh, okay, yes, sir!"

With that, he hangs the phone up with bony fingers, and then he looks at up with shaking paws and trembling whiskers.

"What? What is it?" I ask, feeling my own paws shake, and I have to remind myself to stay calm and not turn myself into a nervous wreck.

"Th- the Senator wants to be able to speak with you later this afternoon, all of you…"

"Well then he's going to have to come here if he wants that, Officer," I say, feeling my tail twitch nervously behind me.

"And that's exactly what he'll be doing tomorrow morning. For now… I'm sorry… guards, take them back to their cells…"

"What? No!" Judy protests, but Clawhauser just smiles sadly at all of us as the guards lead us back to our cells, and the one that leads me back smiles even more sadly.

"I'm sorry," he says, and I get a chance to get a good look at him, and I see that, to my shock, it's another predator, a wolf this time, not wearing a collar, but I can see that he's cuffed and chained like Clawhauser is, and it's a blow that hits me like a sucker punch to the gut.

"I'll get you out of here," I whisper to him as we reach the cell that he closes and locks me into.

"Thank you," he says, tipping two fingers to his forehead like a salute. "Food'll get here in a little while…"

"You're welcome," I say, starting to feel the stress of the day wear me out. Forget about food, I need to go to sleep. Thankfully, there's a cot right in the cell, so I crash on that, and the good thing about being a fox is that we have long tails that we can use to keep ourselves warm, so I cover myself in that and then wrap myself up in the thin blankets and then let sleep take me under.

The next morning, the sound of a tray being pushed through the flap in the door wakes me up, and I sit up, yawning as my tongue lolls out of my mouth. _Bleh…_

"So, Senator Bogo came by this morning," the same wolf says, twisting his key in the lock and letting me grab my tray before he comes in and shuts the door behind him. Thankfully, he doesn't lock it. Instead, he just lets it slide closed and then comes to sit on my cot next to me.

"Oh?" I ask. "What'd he say?"

"Well, he said something about community service, but, well, why don't you ask him yourself? Eat up, everyone's already waiting."

"Oh, geez," I mutter, eating whatever the heck this stuff is as quickly as I can, wondering how watery slop like this can even be considered food. "Sorry that I'm keeping everyone waiting…"

"Oh, no worries," the guard says, beginning to eat his own tray. "They can wait another five minutes, I haven't eaten breakfast yet."

"Wait, you actually eat that stuff? Are you just trying to make me feel better? I mean, it's working, but…"

"No, I'm eating it because it's the only food I'll get. You keep forgetting that I'm chained here… I don't leave, and the only reason I'm not collared is because they'd, well… they're not kind, but it could be worse… Anyways," he says, "the Senator's going to be waiting for all of you. Here," he says, pushing himself to his feet, "I'll be here. The door's unlocked, just don't forget about all us here, okay?"

"You have a deal," I say, opening the cell's wrought iron bars and walking out into the lobby again, where I see the Senator standing there waiting for me, and I'm thankful that he doesn't look angry. Judy's there too, and all the parents… uh, oh…

"Well, wwell, well, Mister Hopps," the Senator says, looking at me with a look that feels like it's going to burn right through me. "Why does it not surprise me that all of you are in trouble, hmm? Marian, I think we're even, right?"

"Yes, we are," Mrs. Wilde says. "So how long?"

"I think ten months should do it, what about you?"

"Senator, honestly, I'm thankful, I'll take what I can get, you know what it's like in Zootopia proper…"

"And unfortunately, that's where we have to go... "

"What? Senator, William, please, don't do that to me…! Please!" Mrs. Wilde begs, paws together and ears laid back, and if _she's_ afraid, as a grown fox, then what should I be?

"Marian, that's the deal that I can offer. That's the deal, so I'm sorry, but take it and come back or stay here."

"There has to be another way!"

"There's not, so make up your mind, I need to get back to the office by mid-day."

Taking an enormous breath in and then letting it back out slowly, Mrs. Wilde sighs and pushes herself back up to her paws, her mate looking at her with saddened eyes, and then, as he looks at her, he nods.

"We'll do it," she says, taking his extended hoof and shaking it. "Everyone else too…?"

"Yes, they'll come, Marian, your daughter and her friend and family too, I hear that's what got them into this mess in the first place?"

"It's a long story, William, just get us out of here!" Mr. Wilde interjects, and the Senator nods. "Ten months? All of you? Do we have a deal?"

"Bonnie, can you agree to that?"

"What am I agreeing to?" Mom asks, slapping her nose to get it to stop twitching in fear.

"The one way I'm going to be able to get you all out of here is if I take you on as aides in my office. Servants, technically, but, well… you'll be fine."

Mom takes a deep breath of her own, and then lets it out and nods. "Deal."

"Very well then," one of the guards says, and I see the Senator slip him a few gold coins. "You're free to go." Then, as if it's almost as an afterthought, he stops the Senator. "Wait, if you're going to go, take the dam cheetah and wolf with you too. Bellwether's been begging me to get rid of them for years, but, well…. If you're here, Senator, with your track record, they'll be better off with you.

"Now go on, get out of here," he says, taking a key and freeing the other predators in the building. "They stay with you, otherwise we'll haul them in, you understand that, William?"

"Yes, sir, I do," the Senator says, beckoning with a wave of his hoof towards a large van. "That's my ride. Get in, don't make a sound."

With that, we all pile in, and take our seats on the benches that are built into the back of the van, and then the Senator shuts the door, and off we go.

It's what? Two hundred eleven miles from here to Zootopia proper? I think I remember that from a project I had to do when I was in school, before I managed to get my tail kicked out.

The ride feels like it takes all day, but it can't take more than four hours to get to Senator Bogo's office. The real hassle is getting through security, considering we're just a few blocks down from where we are, a gleaming glass building that stands in rather stark contrast to the soot-stained concrete one we're entering. All the guards are prey mammals, and they all glare at us through the van's tinted windows as the Senator explains what we're doing with him. Thankfully, they let us through, and we're just getting out of the van when an otter comes running up to us, and the guards turn to come after him, but the Senator waves them all off.

"He's fine," he says, and the otter starts talking so rapidly that I don't think even Judy's going to be able to understand him.

"Hold on, sir, slow down," the Senator says, and I can get a good look at him- middle-aged, wearing a sweater with a paisley tie with a perfect Windsor knot. He's holding a picture pretty tightly, and I can see that it's a picture of another otter, dressed in a business suit, hugging two younger otters, probably this one's sons, but what does he need from the Senator?

"Senator Bogo, please!" the otter pleads as we walk into the building. "Just a moment of your time, please sir!"

"What is it?"

"I- It's my wife, Octavia, she's a pred rights attorney…. she- she didn't come home last night… what am I supposed to tell my children? I- I- I can't go to the police, you're my only hope…"

"Well, come in, Mister Otterton, I'll see what I can do for you."


	21. Chapter 21

"So tell me that again, Mister Otterton?" Senator Bogo asks, hoof pinching the bridge of his snout in tired exasperation. "She didn't come home yesterday, and then what? I don't doubt what you're saying, but I get the feeling that the police would be a better help than me. I was never a cop, I was in the Academy for about two and a half months before I washed out. Why did you come to me, of all mammals?"

"Because I know you can't be bought out, Senator, because, well…. You know why, you know what happened the last time any of our members tried to fight Bellwether…," Mister Otterton tries to protest, but the Senator cuts him off with a wave of a hoof, and then seemingly things better of it, placing his hoof over his eyes and letting out a breath that sounds like it's been held in for a long, long, _long_ arse time… no offense meant to any donkeys out there…

"You're right, Mister Otterton, you're right… so when what can we do?"

"I have no idea, Senator, really…. and please, call me Emmitt… you know me, don't you remember…. Please, help us, Adrian!"

"I would if I could!" Senator Bogo says, slamming his hooves onto his hand and letting out a breath with a snort. "But the last time we did that, Johnathan and Marian got left behind, and, well, we all know how well that turned out…. And their son Nicholas, poor thing… I don't want a repeat, we all know what happened there…."

"I- I- um, you know you're talking about me, right? You know _I'm_ Nicholas…. Bonnie Hopps is my mom, Marian and Johnathan, well… yeah, I know the story, switched at birth, yada yada, but what does that have to do with anything…."

"You tell none of this to anyone outside this room," the Senator says, going around to all of the doors and windows, twisting latches, sliding bolts, drawing the blinds, everything to make sure that no mammal can see us in here. "Your biological parents, Nicholas-"

"It's Nick," I interrupt him. "And yeah, I've heard it all, and honestly, it doesn't matter, I love them all anyways, Judy too…."

Feeling an unwelcome blush creep into my cheeks, I put a paw behind my ears as I continue. "So if you need help, Mister Otterton, we'll see what we can do."

"No, you won't," the Senator says, pounding a hoof on the counter once again, making the lanterns that light this cramped room, with its musty carpet and ancient, fire scarred wood-paneled walls and grimy sole window, shake. "No, Nicholas, you won't, do you have any dam idea what the hell you're going to be getting into if you go through with this?"

"Not entirely, Senator, if I'm being entirely honest, but really, well and truly, I don't care."

"Well I do," Mrs. Wilde says. "I fricked up and I'm not about to let a kit get hurt because of it…"

"And I'm not a kit anymore, I'm fifteen, isn't that old enough?" I say, tapping my paw anxiously on the floor, feeling grit stick to my pads and trying and failing to brush it off.

"Nicholas, they almost fucking killed us!" Mrs. Wilde says, letting her tongue slip for the first time in all of the time that I've known her. "They almost fucking killed us, and you want to what? Dive back in and go through hell to take her down? You're not going to be able to get there alive…. And if you did, they'd dart you…. Why do you think my body looks this beat? I'm thirty-six, and my muzzle's already gray… let's just say night howler does a number on a mammal…. And we were far from the only ones that had to go through that hell…. so no, Nicholas, I'm not going to let you…"

"Aunt Marian… is it okay if I call you that? Aunt Marian? We're closely related enough, I mean, if you don't mind…. I hope it's okay with you..."

"Mm-hmm, yeah, Nick, it is," she says, tears in the corners of her eyes as she nods.

"Aunt Marian, I- just…. Look, if we can't just go straight at her, then what are we supposed to do? How could we get to City Hall? Is there, you know, like, a tunnel system that we could go through, a subway?"

"Um, yeah, there actually is," Mrs. Wilde- _Aunt Marian_ \- says. "Adrian, we could do this this way this round around, so what do you think? Do you still have those connections that you used to, way back when?"

"I do, Marian, I do," Senator Bogo says, sighing once again. "But they're not going to appreciate being called back up to service after so long, you know that, right?"

"Of course, Adrian, of course," Mrs. Wilde- _gah, no, Aunt Marian, keep it straight, screwball fox-_ says, smiling enormously, and, well, rather _toothily_ at all of us. "You know, Adrian," she says, tapping her paw like a thought's just come to mind, "I don't think the Banyan Street Station's going to be guarded, not after the drug lab explosion there years ago, nobody would want to go near the area again… that's where we should go through and into the system, and besides, it's the closest station to here, isn't it?"

"You're not wrong, Marion," the Senator says, letting his breath out in a huff for the third time, and honestly, what's so stressful about trying to save the world?

 _That was supposed to be sarcastic._

"Pardon me, everyone," Mister Otterton interjects, "but what the heck are all of you talking about? I'm worried about my wife here, do any of you have a plan so we can find her _alive_?"

"Yes we do, Mister Otterton, yes we most certainly do," Aunt Marian says. "So, um, who's hungry? I haven't eaten breakfast yet, and well, I can't think well without my cup of tea in the morning… come on, Emmitt, join us, we'll fill you in."


End file.
